Luck Goes Both Ways
by DrJohnHolmes
Summary: Sherlock is a Victor of the Hunger Games, made Mentor dispute his fragile mental state. He had separated himself from his emotions, but the next tribute, John Watson, might just change that.
1. Chapter 1

The dreams came to me again, as they do every night. The tributes come back, the blood, the weapons, it's all there, and I can't control it. I see the knife through the boy's head, no older than fourteen, the explosion that knocked out at least four tributes, and then, as I stood in the middle of the arena, the blood started soaking to me, through the jungle woods, the blood of all the tributes that I had miraculously managed to kill… and then I wake up. As predicted I sat up in bed, the knife grasped in my hands as I attacked at the one thing I couldn't stop, my own mind. My house was dark; there were no people and no one attacking me. It took a moment to catch my breath, trying to block out any of the dream once again, shoving it behind locked doors in my brain. Because the more I think about my time in the arena, the worse it gets. Taking deep breaths I lay back down on my pillow, putting the knife back under it and feeling, once again, fluff. I had torn open yet another mattress in my not very peaceful sleep. My name was Sherlock Holmes, and I, out of some miserable magic, am a victor of the most dangerous game you could ever play, President Snow's idea of entertainment, the Hunger Games. Unfortunately though, I lived in District 12, the worst of all the districts, we only had two victors currently living, me and a girl named Molly Hooper. I didn't know how she won, I never watched the games, I only ever watched as they lower two more crude wooden coffins into the rocky soil. I didn't go in with much, I had a score of four in the evaluations, no one in their right mind would invest in me, and my mentor was Molly, so the only thing I knew how to do was smile at the camera and hide. But thankfully I had my brain, and no one could take that away from me, even though at the moment I wish they could. I rigged traps, I tricked tributes into practically killing themselves, and made shelters that were hidden in plain sight, letting the others slaughter each other while they aimlessly forgot about me. And when I killed him, the boy, I didn't know his name, the hovercraft came to pick me up, and that was what they called the end. Now I got a nice fancy house in the victor's village, my family got their own house in the victor's village, and we were supposed to pretend the whole thing never happened. But you never really leave the games. I knew I would be having these dreams the rest of my life, I knew that I would keep going through mattresses, attacking them so I actually have something to take my anger out on. The only thing I can do is slow them down, but I wouldn't resort to that yet, in the morning I will need all the help I could get. Tomorrow was the reaping, well, I looked at the clock, which read 1:34, today was the reaping. Now I have to be a mentor, and try to teach some brainless kid with no chance to survive, and throughout the whole thing I had to smile and act like I'm completely fine. The worst thing that can ever happen to you is the escort, Mrs. Hudson, pulling that white slip of paper out of that bowl, reading your name out to the on looking crowd. When that happened to me, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. No one knew me, even before my games I had no friends, the only four that were affected were me, my brother Mycroft, and my parents. The three of them were sharing another house right next to mine, which was both good and bad. They can't see me at my worst, they aren't present when I wake up screaming, and they don't see the drugs. But they also aren't here to comfort me, to tell me everything is okay, and if there was anything I wanted on that train was a friend, someone who could tell me it was alright, and that I'd come out fine. I lay awake for the rest of the night, and around five o'clock in the morning I heard the soft engines of the hovercrafts flying over my house, coming loaded with peacekeepers. They're called peacekeepers to try to make you feel safe, but I knew that the only way they actually kept peace was with guns and violence; they'd open fire on even the smallest of riots. I knew President Snow was paranoid, he didn't want to lose any sliver of his infinite power, and even the smallest, most pathetic districts of mere coal miners were treated like prisoners. The games were the same, they always will be and if something changes then people die. The victor will live, but everyone else involved, even the innocent family members, would be tortured or even killed, it was ruthless and evil. But then again, this entire place was evil, and they knew it. When I heard the engines I sat up, digging under my bed for the syringes, sticking it in my forearm and letting the drugs take over, blocking my mind and for a while taking my mind of the torture that would come. A couple of hours later there was a knock on the door, good timing too, I was now partially sober.  
"Come in!" I called. I was upstairs, but I heard the door open and two, no, three pairs of feet entered my house. Dang it, they brought Mycroft. I shoved any evidence of the drugs into what I call, in my mind, the drug shoe, just some stupid shoe that held everything I could get in trouble for, hidden under my bed.  
"Sherlock where are you!" My mother called, her loud, scratchy voice making me want to bury my head in my pillow.  
"I'm coming!" I yelled back, angrily getting out of my bed and pulling on a robe. When I opened the door the light burned my eyes, after being up for so long in the darkness I'd gotten used to it. My mother was at the base of the stairs, dressed all fancy and ready for the cameras again.  
"Come on Sherlock, you need to start getting ready!" she insisted. I rubbed my face with my hands, ruffling my hair in annoyance.  
"No! I'm not going!" I hissed.  
"You have to." My dad insisted, poking his head out of the kitchen. "Come on, I'm making breakfast."  
"I'm not hungry."  
"You have to eat sweetie!" Mom insisted.  
"Mycroft will eat my portion, he'll eat both of yours too if you don't watch out." I pointed out.  
"I heard that!" Mycroft yelled from the kitchen.  
"Good Now I'll be back in my room, please feel free to go back to your own home." I hissed, walking back into my room and closing the door. On this door I had attached a deadbolt, it was supposed to help me feel better about it, but it only made the room look more like a dungeon to me, it couldn't hold out the nightmares, but it would hold out the next worse thing, my family. I locked the bolt, flopping back onto my bed. I couldn't go to the reaping; I couldn't watch that same bloody video and hear the lies, and the names of the next victims. I would stay up here in my room, and the only way I was going to attend the 'ceremony' was if they broke down my door and sedated me. I heard my family talking down stairs, I knew they were worried about me, but there was nothing they could ever do to understand this terror I was going through. Every single day and night I went through the horror, they could never understand.  
"Sherlock, do you want to talk?" Molly's voice asked through the bedroom door when the clock read ten o'clock. They picked the names at exactly twelve.  
"Tell my parents to leave me alone! And then you can go with them too!" I called back to my previous mentor. I knew I hurt her feelings; it was quite obvious that she fancied me, but I would have nothing to do with her or anyone for that fact. I didn't have interest in anyone, and I knew that love would only be a pathetic attempt to distract myself from everything. Instead of putting my feelings to another human, I left them for a manufactured, illegal drug, but I was a lot more comfortable with that. No one understood me, no one ever would, and I would just be afraid to get them killed.  
"Sherlock you really need to come to the ceremony." Molly said again after a while. I though t she had left, so I groaned.  
"I don't have to do anything!" I hissed.  
"But you're last year's victor, the people will want to see you!" she insisted.  
"I doubt they'd want to see me like this." I pointed out.  
"Please Sherlock, I don't want you to get in trouble." She begged.  
"I'm sorry Molly, but I'm not coming!" I insisted. I heard her sigh with annoyance, but after a while I heard her retreating footsteps. I knew that she knew she has been where I am now, wanting to hide, somehow she made it through, but I didn't want to talk about it. That was her philosophy, if you have a problem talk it out, which was how the train was most of the way. She'd hold my hand and ask me what was wrong. But of course, being the mean person I was, I'd push her away and hide. That was my philosophy, if you've got a problem it will go away if you do. All in all that wasn't working, I'd hide and the problem would just grow, so I'd tame it with the drugs. They were always helpful, although no one else knew about them. Eventually it was eleven o'clock, when the entire town would move to the town square, in the roped off prisons. I heard my door open and all of the residence leave without me. I went to the window, peeking one eye through the thick curtains to watch them leave. They were all dressed very nicely, even Mycroft had worn a suit, but even that didn't hide the fat that was underneath. The sun burnt my eyes, so I pushed the curtain back, plunging the room to darkness. A little bit later I heard the microphone blaring, Mrs. Hudson was talking about something, introducing herself and lying about the pleasure it was to be in this hellhole of a district. The video must be playing, because I heard faint music, and then there was silence. I saw the digital clock, the red numbers displaying twelve o'clock. I heard her talking, and more silence. The women tribute had just been picked. There wasn't any applause, only silence as they watched their daughter or friend go to the chopping block, probably never to come back down. Then there was more talking, and the man was picked, more silence. And then it was over, I knew it was, because I remembered it well, I was stuck on that platform; I had to watch my whole town look at me with morn, as if I was already dead. I didn't even bother getting to know the girl that was on the train with me, she was at the table with me, she would wait with me until our district was called for everything, we rode on the carriage, but I never knew her name. I couldn't know her name, because the only way for me to win was if she was dead. I knew the district would go celebrate with relief that it wasn't their kids carted off to the visiting rooms. Now I knew I had to get ready, I had to be on that train, so I threw on black slacks and my favorite purple shirt. I packed a bag with more clothes, books, and the drug shoe, the train had everything else that I would've needed. I made sure that I didn't look destroyed; I didn't want the poor tribute to have to see what we become after the victor's tour. We become the living dead, leading a cursed life. I walked down to the station, where I saw my family waiting for me. Other than the three of them and Molly, there were no other people there except the beggars, who flocked at the trains to maybe get a cent or too from people. I didn't smile at the group, even though my mother did her best to look proud of me. I knew it hurt her to see me like this, I knew that she never wanted this fate for me, but no one can rewrite time. I gave them all, (except Mycroft) meaningless hugs of farewell, I'd see them when this was all over for another year. Molly didn't have family, I don't know what happened to them, and I never really wanted to find out, but the two of us just got on the train together. Molly said goodbye to my family as well, they were pretty much the only family she had, and they treated her like a daughter. My mother always wanted us to get together, she claimed that shared life experience was a great relationship tool, but I just scowled whenever she brought it up. As I stepped back on the train there was a rush of memories, miserable memories, of sitting in those chairs and wondering what would become of me. There were platters of the fanciest food you could imagine, from deserts to meats, but none of the first time tributes ever ate it. If Mycroft had been picked instead of me then there would be a problem. He wouldn't be able to step off the platform, he'd just roll. Maybe the reason I hated him so much is because he didn't volunteer. You can do that, volunteer to take some else's place, he was the oldest age allowed, but he just looked at me with sadness, as if knowing I was off to die but not doing anything to stop it. As much as he tries to defend himself I knew the truth, he was terrified of being a tribute, he had no fighting skills, he would've had less of a chance then me, and that was really saying something even though I managed to get out of there.  
"I guess we get to meet the tributes now." Molly muttered after we put our stuff in out designated rooms. I nodded, I had no idea who these tributes were, but there was one rule that I gave myself, I couldn't get attached to them. I knew that I'd only see them one other time afterwards, their stone faces in the wooden coffins. District Twelve, after all of these years, had only managed to send through two victors, that was quite sad if you ask me. These poor kids had no chance. I would've been in the reaping again this year, it would be my last year that I could, but I would've been standing there with all of the other boys, praying that my name didn't get called. I saw the media outside of the window, some putting their cameras almost on the windows to film us, and others following a crowd of people, the tributes, obviously moving towards the train. I simply flipped off the camera crews, to Molly's terror, she just slapped my arm down and smiled and waved. The doors in the other compartment opened, I could hear crying and screaming from the families trying to get past the peacekeepers, to get to their already dead children.  
"Be nice Sherlock, remember what it was like for you." Molly insisted.  
"I'm not a nice person." I said simply.  
"You can be, if you want to be. Now, I'll be mentoring the girl, her name is Irene Adler, she seems… nice. And you'll be mentoring the boy, his name," she was cut off by the door opening. Two people walked out, a girl that was obviously eighteen, she had long black hair and very pale skin, and a boy that might be sixteen or seventeen, with sandy blonde hair and a look of terror in his face. I simply looked at them as Molly smiled and said her greetings, introducing me and herself.  
"And what's your names?" she asked.  
"You already know our names, they were announced." Irene pointed out, walking straight past us to the snack table. That was something I thought I'd never see, and immediately I didn't like her.  
"I'm, John Watson." The boy said in a sort of squeak. The poor kid was scared out of his mind. I knew what that felt like, but I didn't do anything to comfort him. He should be scared, if you weren't you were lying to yourself, like Irene. She just ate the chocolate off of the chocolate covered strawberries, dumping the leftover fruit in the trash. I cringed, knowing that half the town would kill each other over those leftovers, they were starving animals, and she simply threw it in the trash.  
"So, where are we going?" she asked, chocolate staining her teeth.  
"We're going to the Capital." Molly said simply.  
"I meant where in the Capital." She pointed out, as if that was obvious. I was starting to think I wouldn't miss her.  
"The Tribute Center, where you'll be sleeping and training." Molly answered. I could already tell her patience was wearing thin, which was a real accomplishment because she could handle me and my little tantrums, but this girl was a whole other level of fist clenching. So I decided to ignore her, and, since I was feeling in a pretty miserable mood, I made an executive decision to ignore this John Watson fellow too. I gave the group of people one last pathetic smile before letting the automatic doors open for me, and I retreaded to where my stationed room was.


	2. Chapter 2

Thankfully neither of those tributes claimed the room as their own also, so there were no complications there. I shut the door, knowing that no one would come in, but for good measures I pressed the circular lock on the handle. It was not as good as the dead bolt on my bedroom door, but I supposed it stopped tributes from entering. I unladed my things, stuffing my unfolded clothes into the drawers and hiding the drug shoe in the darkest corner underneath the bed, stuffing the knife under the pillow. It had become a terrible habit to sleep with the knife, I knew it hurt more than it helped, but I felt safer with it, as if someone was going to storm the train. The games messes with your head, in there every human you see wanted your head separated from your neck, in the real world it mostly didn't work like that. I knew on this train there was security and no one was out to get me, but there was always that annoying part in my mind, the one I'd love to shove a sock into and just tell it to shut up, saying that there's always a chance. The capital didn't have anything against me, I had won the games fair and square, but there were always those psychotic family members hunting down the train at gunpoint. I sat on the side of the bed, ruffling my hair like I did when I was nervous. I don't know why I did it, but for some reason it was therapeutic to know that I was, in some ways, still who I was. And unless I was possessed by some alien or something, I'd never change my hair. It was, what I considered, my best feature, even though the only person I had to impress is myself. I looked around the room, it wasn't the same one I was in when I was a tribute, but it looked the same. The technology so advanced District Twelve probably couldn't even dream of having, showers that had so many buttons they looked like elevators, TV screens that acted as walls, it was all so futuristic, but in reality there were probably a lot more things happening. That's the downside of living in the higher districts, the higher you got the poorer you got, and we were the highest there was, so most of the residents ate garbage. Before my reaping we were okay, we had food most of the time, we had clothes and enough water to bathe regularly. My father was a coal miner, as they all were, but my mother was a seamstress, she made and sold clothes for the rest of the district. Unlike a lot, if she had too many clothes or simply ones that people weren't buying, she'd give them to the poor. She had always been, in my opinion, too nice. It was a shame that niceness hadn't been passed onto me or Mycroft. I was always different from all the kids at school, I didn't have any friends, I aced all my tests, and everyone thought I was the freak of the school. I liked it that way though, no one bothered me, no girls flirted with me, and I got to get my work done quickly so I had extra time to read the textbooks I had stolen from the upperclassman. That way I was extra smart, my hope was to graduate early, and my dream was to graduate before Mycroft. Unfortunately though, after the reaping I wasn't allowed to go back to school. Apparently they thought I would be tormented by the kids, or go all murderous or something. In the end I did graduate before Mycroft, but not for the right reasons. Any kid in their right mind would rejoice at the freedom, they had enough money to swim in, they were set for the rest of their life, but there were the after effects of this stupid game. If I could turn back time, back to living in a shack and eating only rations, I would gladly do it.

I don't know how long I stayed in that room, not doing anything in particular but just thinking to myself, my favorite pastime to be honest, there was a knock on the door.  
"Go away!" I yelled, which was my default response.  
"Sherlock honey, we're about to eat dinner!" it was Mrs. Hudson, the escort. She was the only person I actually felt bad about saying shut up to. Over my time she became like an adopted grandmother, and even though she was from the capital she was the only person that seemed to actually care about the tributes, instead of just wanting them to die to get them off of their hands.  
"Coming." I muttered in a bored tone. I never ate much, but after the game I seemed to get used to barely eating anything, so now I just resorted to, if any, very small amounts. I got to my feet, checking my reflection quickly in the mirror before trudging out to the dining car once again. Everyone was already seated, Irene was already helping herself to the mashed potatoes, and John was sitting up as straight as possible, still looking as terrified as he had when he got on the train. I sat down in the only available seat, next to Molly and across from John.  
"Shall we all say a prayer?" Mrs. Hudson asked. I remember this from last time; she always made us pray for good fortune. We all held hands, I did rather reluctantly, and Mrs. Hudson just asked that we make it through safely. Unfortunately though, only one of these tributes, if any, would actually make it through. Irene didn't even bother to stop chewing as she prayed, and at that moment I added a little prayer that if one of them could survive please make it be John. We were then allowed to start eating, and everyone except me and John attacked their favorite foods. He seemed to be waiting for everyone to stop, or he was just remembering that the more he ate the more he might throw up with nerves. I simply buttered a piece of bread, but both the bread and the butter were fancier than I'd ever be able to find at home. I barely ate it either, I sipped my water and watched everyone else eat, toning out their conversations. I noticed John not eating much either, he had a couple of green beans on his plate, but that was it.  
"You might want to eat." I said in a monotone voice, but it still made everyone (except Irene of course) stop what they were talking about and look at me. I groaned, if this was the reaction I would get every time I talked I might as well be a bloody avox. John looked up at me with mild surprise, as if he had been told I didn't say a word either.  
"I'm not very hungry." He muttered. The rest of the people got over their shock and went back to their conversations. I noticed Irene seemed to be doing all the talking at that end of the table, and when Molly tried to say something she just interrupted.  
"But you'll need all the nutrition you can get." I pointed out. That was what Molly had said to me when I was a tribute, and I took her word for it. I don't know if it really paid off, but it made sense when you thought about it John nodded, scooping out corn from a fancy china bowl. I knew I couldn't get too attached to him, talking to him was probably as much as I would be able to do, but it was slightly easy for me to ignore people when I wanted to. But being as it was my responsibility to give him tips on how to stay alive; I might have to talk more than I wanted. As if to encourage him I finished my bread and scooped whatever was left of the mashed potatoes. Irene had taken almost all of them by some miracle; I guess they were her favorite since at least half of her plate was filled with them. God, I really didn't like her.  
"So, you were last year's tribute right?" John asked. I nodded, not wanting to have a conversation. "I remember you; it was a big deal when you came out alive. We all thought you were going to be the first down." He said. I smiled very sarcastically at him, and he seemed to realize what he had just said.  
"Sorry sir, that sounded really mean I wasn't trying to offend you or anything. You did brilliant though." He said in a mess of words. I realized he called me sir, which was a very odd thing considering I could only be a year or two older than him.  
"Thank you." I said quietly, as if trying to get him to shut up. He took the message, and I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. I didn't want to offend him in anyway, but it would be better if he felt like he wanted to talk to Irene, because then he would be waiting the entire train ride to get a word in. The servants rushed into the room, switching out the food with desert. John thanked them, the only one who actually did. Irene just took a spoon right out of the avox's hand, scooping pudding out of a tall glass container. I merely plucked a raspberry off the top of a tall cake with my fork, not very hungry for any sweets. John took the liberty of having a small scoop of ice cream, but he ate it so slowly I was afraid it was going to melt before he was actually able to eat it. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, dinner was over and we were allowed to be excused. Before I could escape though, Molly stopped me in the hall on the way out.  
"You should talk to him more, make him feel welcome. How we all sit in the living room?" she recommended.  
"Why would he want to feel welcome here?" I asked. I know it's always great to have great hospitality on the ride to your death.  
"Please." She said, trying and failing to do puppy eyes. I stepped back a little bit with a defeated sigh, hating the close quarters I was stuck in.  
"Fine! But I won't like it, and there's no guarantee I will actually talk." I decided with a pout. Molly's face lit up, which was so common that I barely meant anything anymore. I forced a weak smile just to make her feel good, which was still pretty pathetic, and walked back into through the dining car to what we called the living room. It was just a compartment with couches, a TV, and even a fireplace, but it was the homiest of them all. The light outside was fading, the big picture windows reflecting our images back through the darkness. John and Irene sat on one couch; for once Irene was being quiet, sipping on the straw of a fancy bubbly soda. Mrs. Hudson sat in an armchair, looking at the two as if wanting to start a conversation but not knowing what to say. John looked a bit uncomfortable, sitting the farthest away he could from Irene and sitting up straight once more, as if this was the army. I sat on the couch opposite, Molly joining me even though there was another available armchair. I should've realized that faster so I could've taken that instead.  
"So, do you two have any plans for the games?" she asked.  
"I thought…" John started.  
"Of course I do. During all the press I'll seduce the audience until they almost have to sponsor me." Irene said with a smile. I haven't heard of that strategy before, but even though it was absolutely pathetic it might work. I know that Snow takes advantage of the more attractive victors, selling them for money. Irene might end up down that path, but I doubt she'd care. I think any man in their right mind should run as far away from her to be honest.  
"And you John?" I asked, not commenting on Irene's grand plan. John twisted his hands uncomfortably.  
"Well, I was thinking that maybe, if I could find a place, that I could just hide somewhere, sort of like you did." He said.  
"That would take a lot more brains than you probably have." I said simply. The room was silent, even Irene stopped drinking to look at me. John sighed, as if expecting that to be the answer and going back to being the quiet onlooker.  
"What Sherlock meant to say is that it all depends on climate and conditions. If you're in the snow that might not be a good idea, and in the forest it might be difficult to not look to out of place." Molly said. John nodded, but obviously my answer had taken a toll on his overall confidence. It was too late to clear it up, so I just nodded at Molly's kinder version. Mrs. Hudson remained quiet, simply observing.  
"Tomorrow we will arrive at the capital, we will meet your stylists and get all cleaned up there, and then we will discuss the parade outfits. Do you have any ideas?" Molly asked.  
"As little as possible." Irene said with a smile.  
"No, please." John said sheepishly. I smiled at him; he was like a nervous little kid trying to be an adult.  
"We thought, since it's coal, that maybe you can do a fire thing? I know that they did that before, but we could maybe do something different?" Molly guessed.  
"That sounds okay." John agreed.  
"We need to attract as much attention as we can." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"Obviously." Irene laughed.  
"Sponsors are always watching, so make sure to smile and be pleasant." Molly added.  
"That was you're down fall Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"Smiling is too much work." I pointed out with a frown. John laughed, but he was the only one that did, because everyone knew that in my opinion that was true. He quickly realized his mistake and was silent.  
"So, John, where are you from?" Mrs. Hudson asked, taking the subject off of the games for a while.  
"The back of district twelve, not the wealthiest of families." He muttered, blushing a little bit with embarrassment.  
"That's fine sweetie." Mrs. Hudson assured. "And how about you?" she asked Irene.  
"I come from the richer side of things, I've got three siblings and my family is the head of the market." She said proudly. John looked around nervously; I could tell that he disliked her as much as we did.  
"And how about you John? Family?" Molly asked after some silence.  
"I have a sister, Harriet." He said.  
"Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself Sherlock, you haven't said a word." Mrs. Hudson decided.  
"I said some words." I pointed out with a groan, hating conversation and everything that had to do with it.  
"They weren't positive." She added.  
"Well, I have a fat annoying brother named Mycroft." I sighed. Mrs. Hudson looked very annoyed with me at that moment, glaring at me. "Was that the wrong answer?" I defended. Irene cracked a smile, but everyone else looked fairly annoyed.  
"You could've put it nicer dear." Mrs. Hudson decided.  
"Well I'll be Irene's mentor, and Sherlock will be with John, anything you need from us we would be happy to provide, information, tips, whatever. We've been through this and made it out, so we're here for you." Molly said. John looked up at me as if I was going to say something similar, but I just smiled weakly at him and went back to not talking or showing emotion of any kind. In a particularly cruel way of getting to know our tributes better, Mrs. Hudson suggested we have one on one time, where Irene and Molly sit in the dining hall and John and I stay here. I knew this thing was all a quite pathetic attempt just for me to talk, but before I could protest Molly agreed that it would be a great idea.


	3. Chapter 3

In a very short amount of time it was just John and I, the only sound was the wind hitting the windows. This was a fancy capital train, so it made no noise and shot at speeds most of us couldn't imagine. What would've taken a week or so was now only a day and a half.  
"Do you have any method on how to stay calm during all of this?" John asked. I chuckled a little bit, thinking about the drug shoe.  
"Nothing legal." I pointed out. He looked a bit more nervous now.  
"Do you think I have a chance?" he asked nervously.  
"I don't know, what are your skills?" I asked. He took a moment to think about that, as if he had to actually search his brain, a bad sign usually.  
"Well, I help my dad in the mines, so I guess I'm strong, and I'm okay with a knife, and I managed to kill a squirrel with a rock one time." John said. I laughed at the last one, making him crack a nervous smile.  
"Well, unless the tribute is really, really small, I think we have some work to do." I decided. His smile faded.  
"I'll be the first to die." He sighed.  
"Don't you dare think like that!" I snapped almost immediately, surprising even myself. I wasn't the type to be all to give out stars for self-love, but I still didn't want John to think that he would die. "You could go in that training room, pick up a bow and find that you are gifted with it, or swords, or anything. In the arena there are no rules; weapons are not the last thing you can use to kill people." I pointed out.  
"So if I got a really big rock and threw it from a tree that could work." John suggested.  
"Critically speaking, even though that sounds almost impossible." I pointed out. "You don't even need to do that, get a grip and you can snap their neck."  
"Well that's pretty violent." He laughed. I just sighed.  
"It's the bloody hunger games; it will never not be violent." I pointed out. John frowned; it was obvious that he was horrified of what was going to happen to him.  
"What about the climate? Do we know what that will be yet?" he asked.  
"Unfortunately no, you find out when the tube takes you to the platform." I pointed out.  
"Do we know who the other tributes are?" he asked.  
"No, not until the parade do we get our first look. But remember in the training to evaluate them all, see what their strengths are, see their weaknesses, the stations they don't attend, use those against them." I insisted.  
"That seems like a lot of work for one person." He pointed out.  
"Well, I wouldn't go to Irene for help, because if worse comes to worse you'll have to use her weaknesses against her too." I pointed out. John sighed; I think he already considered that too. There was some silence, and I really wanted one of the other people to walk in, even Irene just to let me escape. I didn't know what to say, I knew I had to pretend like it was all fun and games after you get out of the arena, I couldn't make him feel like walking out is just the first step of the eternal torture.  
"Where you scared?" he asked. I laughed, but I knew it wasn't a question.  
"Scared is a serious understatement." I remembered. "But I assure you, the nerves kick into adrenalin, and that works for you in the long run. If you're not scared I'd be very worried."  
"Like Irene." He muttered, looking around to see if anyone was listening.  
"She seems so determined to win, but sponsors can't save your life." I pointed out.  
"We don't know how good she is with weapons though." John said.  
"Use your brain as a weapon, out think all of the competition, that's what I did, and I had no sponsors." I admitted.  
"Now that I look at you, I think I remember you from a couple grades above me, in school I mean." John said, studying my face.  
"School is so far behind both of us now." I laughed.  
"Yes, I do, you were the one that sat underneath the apple tree!" he remembered. I smiled shyly.  
"Well it's always good to be known as that." I admitted. I remembered the apple tree, I loved sitting under there, it was so peaceful, until, of course, the other kids fond me. One time I had spitballs in my hair for a week before they finally washed away. Kids were cruel, but they only beat up on others because they have nothing else but that satisfaction. Usually the bullies were the ones that were dirt poor, their only houses were a few wooden beams and sheets.  
"It feels like an entire life time ago." I admitted.  
"It kind of is." He agreed.  
"Just get out of these games, and then we'll get all deep talks okay?" I recommended. John laughed weakly, but he didn't look confident that he'd ever win. I had my doubts too, of course I did, but I had to hope, I had to hope, I was his sponsor after all. The door opened, about time, and Mrs. Hudson walked in cheerfully, carrying a platter of tea.  
"How's it going dears?" she asked. I just frowned at her as she set the tray on the coffee table, containing a tea pot, two tea cups, and a plate of biscuits.  
"Fine, thank you Mrs. Hudson." John said with a smile.  
"So polite, I hope it rubs off on you Sherlock." She said with a disapproving glance to me. I just gave her a sarcastic smile and crossed my arms, the signal for her to leave. She just frowned, but walked out quickly, her high heels clicking.  
"She's from the capital?" John asked.  
"One of the few sane ones yes." I agreed, reaching for the tea pot. I poured a cup, and then found myself pouring one for him too. I cringed at finding myself being polite. I was never polite, not even to the people I care about most, why was this even happening?  
"She seems nice." He decided.  
"She is nice, too nice to be an escort if you ask me." I agreed.  
"I think we need good people to be escorts, people that make you feel at home even when you're just preparing for death." He decided.  
"Don't think about it like that." I said, handing him a tea cup.  
"Well, it's hard not to." He sighed. I shrugged. I knew how he felt, on this train last year I was almost certain I would die. Molly had these one on one talks with us too, but usually I just gave simple, one word answers and was done with it. I knew I was going to be a rubbish mentor, so did everyone else, my people skills were in the negatives. I just felt bad for Molly, who probably had to listen to Irene talk and talk and talk.  
"What did you do in the ratings? What did you preform?" he asked.  
"I think I just did something with numbers, very complicated math, I ended by throwing an axe at the paper though." I shrugged.  
"And what did you get?"  
"A four. As I said, even I wasn't expecting to win, math doesn't get you very far in the games, and the axe only chopped of the corner." I shrugged, taking a sip of tea and then adding sugar to it, it was quite tasteless without it.  
"That kind of sucks." He said.  
"Well I hope you do better than I do." I encouraged.  
"So you want me to remember all the tributes and their weaknesses?" he asked.  
"Yes, I think we decided that." I agreed.  
"Can we put them in a book or something?" he asked.  
"Should we make a hit list scrapbook?" I laughed. John didn't seem to find it funny, but he cracked a polite smile and looked kind of embarrassed.  
"I guess so." he agreed. "That makes it easier to remember."  
"I'll see what I can do." I decided.  
"Unless that's against the rules or something, I don't know what we are and aren't allowed to do." John pointed out.  
"No, we're allowed to know the tributes, I'm not sure anyone has ever gone to this great of lengths though." I said.  
"Always good to be remembered for something then." He said with a smile. I just glared at him, I didn't want him to think that he was going to die, and I wouldn't listen if he started being negative.  
"You'll go down in history." I assured. John just laughed with doubt, which made me want to slap him in the side of the head just to get his mind right. I knew I shouldn't care too much since I had thought that way when I was here, but I just didn't want him to. It was weird, I knew I shouldn't care for this boy, I knew I couldn't because there was a one in 24 chance that he would actually live.  
"I don't know sir, I doubt I can do this." He muttered.  
"Usually the underdogs come out on top." I pointed out. The door opened again, and this time it was Molly and Irene, who was talking about some stuff yet again. I ignored her, thankfully having the power to do so.  
"How did your talk go?" Molly asked, sitting on the couch next to me. I nonchalantly scooted over, but I think she noticed.  
"It was fine." I muttered.  
"We decided…" John started.  
"That we weren't going to talk about it to anyone else." I ended, interrupting him with a glare. "That is the purpose of one on one."  
"Yes, sorry sir." He muttered. Molly raised an eyebrow at me, but I just ignored her once again. By now I think she's used to me not noticing she even existed, which was perfectly fine with me.  
"How about you?" I muttered.  
"We made some decisions." Irene said confidently. I wondered if Molly was involved in any of those decisions, but I doubted it. I also wondered if it was okay for Irene to die before she got to the games, crushed in a carriage accident maybe. I knew I wasn't the only one considering that. Mrs. Hudson joined us, sitting in the armchair and turning on the TV. There was nothing much on, except the news. They were talking about the upcoming games, but they couldn't say anything about the tributes themselves, so it was kind of dull. In the end Mrs. Hudson gave up, flicking it off with a sigh.  
"Well I think it's getting late dears, you might want to head off to bed." she decided.  
"I thought you'd never ask." I said with an annoyed huff, and with nothing more than a farewell wave of my hand I was out of there, finally back to the peaceful seclusion of my room. I locked the door again and sighed, knowing that once I lay my head down another battle starts. This train would only make the dreams worse, the memories too vivid and terrifying. I sighed, changing into my pajamas and throwing my robe over the bed post for the morning. The lights were voice activated, so I just said _off_ and they flicked out. With one hand over the handle of the knife, I managed to drift off.

 _I was running through the jungle, I heard someone behind me, but I didn't know who it was, or what it was. I was armed only with a small knife, not very good in long distance, but if I could get a good blow to the head or heart it could be enough. I knew I couldn't outrun this person forever. I picked up speed, I was almost to the pond, if I could get them in the water I might be able to drown them. I felt an arrow rush past me, skinning the side of my shirt and pinching my skin. I kept running, weaving back and forth. The more arrows I could get them to waste the better. The pond was in view, I was so close, and then my leg got tangled in a vine, a trap or just a terrible coincidence, either way I went down. My body slammed into the moss and mud, and I scrambled to turn over right before a boy came flying out of nowhere. I rolled away as a knife was jabbed at my head, using my free leg to kick him in the stomach and away from me. While he was a little ways away I took that opportunity to cut the vine from my foot, getting to my feet and swinging my knife around threateningly. He merely laughed, taking out a large hunting knife from his bag as if I were no more than a deer. He charged, swinging at my head, but I sidestepped, shouldering him into a tree and before either of could react I jammed the knife into his temple, the weakest part of the skull._  
"Sherlock! Sherlock wake up!" Molly's voice woke me with a start; somehow I was on the floor of my bedroom, lying in the remains of the bed post. I groaned, using the dresser as support to pull myself up. I looked around; realizing that sometime in my sleep I had attacked the post with the knife, thinking it was that district three boy. There was a small crowd at the door, Mrs. Hudson and John as far as possible, but Molly was the only one brave enough to actually approach me. I let out a shuttering breath, terrified of what I had just done, but even more terrified of what I might have done if she hadn't managed to wake me up. There was a strange pain in my side, where the 'arrow' had hit me, and I realized it was just a splinter of wood. The dream wasn't how it had played out in the arena, I had killed the boy, but he didn't have bow or a vine trap, somehow that had worked into the dream by me probably getting wrapped up in the sheets and falling out of the bed.  
"Are you okay Sherlock?" she asked as I pulled the piece of wood out of my side. It was kind of embarrassing standing in front of all of them in my pajamas, which only consisted of a pair of fleece pants, but I knew they were more focused on my wood murdering than anything.  
"I'm fine." I muttered, maybe physically, but definitely not mentally. I shoved the dream behind locked doors again, managing to forget it for the moment. If anyone looked terrified, it was John, who had gone completely white in the face. Mrs. Hudson had a protective arm around him, just in case I went murderous, but she looked just as nervous.  
"I'm fine, really, don't worry." I assured, trying to look better than I actually felt. To prove my point I picked up a piece of the bedpost, seeing it had slashes all over it, and tried to fix it back onto the bed with an encouraging smile.  
"Do you want some tea hon?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"No, you people need sleep, I'll be fine." I assured.  
"Do you need someone to stay and talk?" Molly asked. Ever the mediator.  
"No, I'm serious people, I'm completely fine." I assured. They didn't seem all that convinced, but they nodded in the end, Mrs. Hudson and John were the first to leave. She was saying something softly, probably something about tea or sleep or something, but Molly stayed were she was.  
"I have the dreams too, you're not alone with this." She pointed out.  
"Ya, but you don't attack things do you?" I demanded.  
"Well, no, but I know the trauma, and the only way to get it out is to talk, not to hold it all in. It's too much for one person." She insisted.  
"Molly, just go to bed, I'm completely fine." I hissed, glaring at her. I didn't need to cuddle and let all of my hidden emotions go, I only wanted to get all of this over with so I could just go home and get all of this over with.  
"Good night Sherlock." She decided, leaving the room and closing the door softly behind her. As soon as she left I climbed back into the bed, wiping the wood off and digging around underneath, almost frantically searching for the only thing that would help me sleep the rest of night. I found the shoe, sticking a needle into my forearm and sighing as the world seemed to slow down, relaxing everything. I was fine, there was nothing to be worried about, it was a peaceful world filled with sleep. I stuffed everything back under the bed and collapsed onto the pillows, this time I was able to sleep the rest of the night without dreams.


	4. Chapter 4

When I woke up the high was gone, and it was four o'clock in the morning. But I didn't really care about the time, I was up and I didn't want to stay in bed, which would bring dreams, so I simply got up and pulled my robe on, not bothering to tie it since the cars would be empty. Ruffling my hair, I walked into the dining hall in almost a sleep walk. All the lights were off except three bulbs above the window. I saw a figure sitting at the table; head slumped over and seemingly asleep. I walked closer, nervous that it might be dead, but saw that it was just John, his hand resting next to a half full tea cup. Too polite to refuse any of Mrs. Hudson's offers I see. Even though it was early, there was a bowl of fruit on the table for any midnight snacks. I picked up an apple, sitting in the chair opposite of the sleeping tribute with amusement. His head was turned sideways and he was snoring slightly, I couldn't help think about how adorable he was when asleep. I debated waking him up or sticking grapes up his nose or something to have some comic relief, but I realized that might end up killing him, so I just lounged in the chair and ate my apple halfheartedly. It was a lot better than anything I would've found in District Twelve, so crisp and fresh; this bloody capital food was always good. When I was finished with my makeshift breakfast I threw the core in the small trash can, which was golden with fancy designs. That trash can itself probably cost as much as my old house had in the District. I debated waking John up, but decided against it, walking back into the living room and sitting on the couch. It was dark in here, and with the shapes moving outside I didn't feel very safe. Out of the corner of my eye I was sure there was someone hunting me down, a tribute outside with a bow… I closed the thick curtains on either side of me. Now the only light was leaking through the sliding doors, but even that wasn't very light. If I could convince myself I was back in my house in the victor's village and not on this train of death I might be able to calm down more. I sat on the couch with my head in my hands, running my fingers silently through my hair. That was the most violent sleep attack I've ever had, I know that it was on the train with bad memories and all, but it really scared me. Wonder if next time I attack a person, go to their room thinking it was a cave and I was back in the games? There was no limit to what I might do, I was a danger to everyone on this train, including myself. I sat in silence and darkness for a while, it was very calm and relaxing and for some reason just helped me lose my mind on other topics. I knew the other victors before hadn't been able to stand the dark, they would sleep with all their lights on, but I was the opposite. I liked not being able to see, it was like my problems disappeared with my sight, and I was quite okay with that. I was shaken out of my peaceful world when the door opened. It was John, I could see from the outline of the door. We were the only two men on this train, and unless Mrs. Hudson had been working out it had to be him. I saw him, but he didn't see me, obviously. My eyes were used to the low light, but after the door shut I could hear him running into things as if he was blind. It was quite funny actually, he cursed a lot, and when he almost fell over the armchair I had to hold in my laughter. When he finally saw me he screamed under his breath, jumping back a couple of feet in shock. Now I was free to laugh.  
"Not as innocent as you come across huh?" I pointed out. I heard him laugh silently, but he didn't come over. "I hope your parents don't know you talk like that."  
"They're worlds away." He defended. "Not to be rude, or anything, but are you awake?"  
"I certainly hope so, but yes." I said. He walked back over, making his way blindly though the gaps between couches.  
"Why is it so dark in here?" he asked cautiously, as if it was a very personal question.  
"The darkness comforts me." I said simply.  
"Oh." He managed to make it to the couch, and sat down across from me.  
"Why did you fall asleep at the dining room table?" I asked with amusement.  
"I tried to turn her down, but Mrs. Hudson practically made me have tea." He pointed out.  
"You just have to learn to say no." I insisted.  
"I tried, but she wanted me to calm down or something." he shrugged.  
"What woke you guys up?" I asked nervously.  
"Well, Molly must've heard you fall, because she was running down the hall, Mrs. Hudson was woken up by that apparently, and when she screamed that's what woke me." he explained.  
"She screamed?" I asked.  
"Well, when I came in, you were, uh, hacking at the post, you looked almost rabid, it was actually kind of scary." John admitted. I sighed, I had feared that.  
"It was a bad dream." I explained.  
"About the games?" John asked.  
"No, I was hunting zombies." I snapped.  
"Sorry sir, just curious." He defended.  
"How long did it take me to wake up?" I asked.  
"After it snapped in half, Molly kept calling your name, finally you seemed to come to." He explained.  
"I didn't hurt anyone though?"  
"No."  
"Lucky. That could've gotten really bad." I guessed.  
"Is this an annual thing?" he asked. I couldn't let him know how bad it was after you win, so I shook my head.  
"Some nights I have nightmares, but I think it's just this train that triggered memories." I explained. He nodded.  
"I'm really sorry that happens." He decided.  
"It's not your fault." I pointed out.  
"I know, but I'm just saying I'm sorry it actually happens." John explained kind of nervously.  
"Well, I am too." I decided.  
"Why are you up so early?" he asked.  
"I woke up, so I didn't feel like going back to sleep." I explained. It was sort of true, I woke up and I didn't feel like injecting myself with more drugs, so I just woke up. I didn't require much sleep anymore, my nights usually consist of staying up with paranoia, I was actually quite pleased that I managed to get some sleep in.  
"Will we arrive at the capital today?" John asked.  
"If everything goes right yes, and to be honest I doubt there is anything to go wrong." I agreed.  
"Is it scary there? In real life I mean, I've seen some broadcasts." He added.  
"It's quite scary because at first you think they're aliens." I laughed.  
"I heard some actually reconstructed themselves so they have cheetah print skin, is that true?" John asked with a laugh.  
"Unfortunately, it's disgusting if you ask me. I think I saw one with purple skin once, completely purple, like a walking plum." I said, remembering my first trip to the capital. I have been there a couple of times now, for the tribute center of course, for the crowning and the interview, and we stopped briefly on the victor's tour. Before the games I was no one, just another dead tribute, but after I actually killed people I was everyone's hero, claiming that they'd been rooting for me all along, and that they would've funded but they 'forgot'. It was quite pathetic, but they all want different things, some wanted to get my attention for money, or simply for a photo, and there even those crazy girls that tried to kiss me. I thought that was revolting, so now I have a habit of walking as far as I could from everyone.  
"I'm supposed to smile right, be all nice?" he asked.  
"After all of that cursing I doubt that would be possible." I laughed.  
"Thankfully in the capital I'm not wondering around the dark am I?" he pointed out.  
"To answer the first question yes, make the crowd like you, work your best feature. Yours will probably be innocent, you're very cute, and…." John looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and I realized how that had come out. "No, not like, attractive cute, but as in childish cute, people would want to fund the one that reminds them most of a child, because they don't want to see someone like you get brutally murdered." Even through my explanation I felt my cheeks blushing with embarrassment.  
"Well, at least people will find me because I look ten." John sighed.  
"How old are you?" I asked.  
"Sixteen." He muttered. "And you?"  
"Eighteen." I said.  
"You look a lot older." He commented.  
"You look a lot younger." I added with a small smile. I couldn't tell in the low light if he was blushing or not, but a small part of me said that he was.  
"Don't you have to be a certain age to be a mentor, don't they give you a year?" he asked.  
"Apparently that only applies to the districts that have more than two victors. Molly had so much responsibility on her hands, I was forced to become a mentor." I pointed out.  
"Not your first job choice?" he asked.  
"I have no people skills. I hate everyone." I reminded him. He laughed a little bit to himself. "What's so funny about that?"  
"You're doing fine with me." he pointed out.  
"You're different." I muttered, tapping my foot nervously.  
"How?" he defended. I looked at him with annoyance, seeing a small smile on his lips. The nerve of some of these tributes was just astronomical.  
"You just are." I said with a little pout. I had no idea how he was different, maybe it just had to do with him probably not being around for much longer, or that I was superior in this particular relationship, which assured me that he wasn't going to beat me up or anything. Either way, I didn't like being tested, if I said something you're not allowed to protest, if it's from me, it should be carved in stone. But then again, it would then be engraved that John Watson is 'cute' and in a couple of years he might get all old and grow warts, and then people would forever think that I thought he was cute. I forgot the process of my thoughts, so I just came back to reality, I was confusing even myself. The door slid open and I saw the outline of someone, looking like Molly, come in.  
"Oh dear, it's dark in here." she muttered, obviously not knowing we were in here. Unlike John, she didn't curse when she ran into things, she actually apologized to a table, which was quite odd if you ask me.  
"I don't want to scare you, so I'm telling you I'm here." I said simply. John might have been fun to scare, but Molly had been in the games, even if it didn't seem like it. She wouldn't jump back she'd attack, and I didn't want to be beat up with a lamp today. I heard her silently gasp when I started to talk, but obviously she was annoyed with herself for not knowing I was here. If there was a dark place, I was probably in it.  
"Me too." John added.  
"Can I please let some light in?" she asked. I heard the sound of a table being hit with a foot, and Molly squeaked with silent pain.  
"No." I said simply.  
"Where are you two?" she asked.  
"We're sitting on the mantle, it's a nice view. We're on the couch, obviously." I said obviously. I heard John chuckle in front of me, and smiled with the small success. She made her way over, her eyes adjusting enough so she didn't kick on of us. She sat on my couch, and I doubted it was the lack of light that made her sit so close. I moved over a bit, and she pretended not to notice.  
"So what are you two doing up?" she asked.  
"We were just talking. Do you know what time it is?" John asked politely.  
"Oh, it's about seven now, I just got up." she said simply.  
"Well, I know Irene is still asleep, I can hear properly at the moment." I pointed out.  
"How is it mentoring her?" John asked.  
"Oh, it's, a little difficult to get my opinion in, but she's very high spirited and confident." Molly said, searching for positives about her tribute. I laughed to myself.  
"More like annoying and just dying to get in the spotlight." I pointed out.  
"Sherlock, be nice." Molly hissed, hitting me lightly on the arm. That made me jump since I wasn't expecting it, I almost lashed out with the unfortunate battle reflexes. "Sorry, sorry." Molly muttered, obviously just remembering those little details.  
"So, are you two like, a thing?" John asked.  
"No!" I said at once. John looked a little bit surprised at such an answer, and glanced at Molly, who just shook her head.  
"Okay, don't need to get all defensive." He said, raising his hands up innocently.  
"You both were victors then?" John asked after a moment of sort of awkward silence.  
"Yep, I was his mentor last year. It's so nice to have a helper in all this." Molly said.  
"Once again, I was forced into this job, I didn't want it, but the district made me because they needed more…." A light blinded us all, coming from the window and burning my eyes like I was a vampire.  
"Let there be light!" Mrs. Hudson's voice exclaimed. I blinked a lot until finally I got used to the brightness, scowling at her. "Oh wow, it's like a party in here, I thought it was only Sherlock." She said, looking between the three of us.  
"I was talking, how would it only be me?" I defended.  
"Well I thought you were talking to yourself." She pointed out.  
"I don't do that!" Mrs. Hudson just gave me a look as if saying, yes you do, and went over to sit next to John. 


	5. Chapter 5

"We'll get to the capital today, and you can meet your stylists and get ready for the parade." Mrs. Hudson said with excitement.  
"Do we know what we're doing?" John asked.  
"Well, I know that Sara, your stylist, had a couple of ideas."  
"Like what?" John asked impatiently.  
"I guess you'll find out won't you." She pointed out. John looked a little bit apprehensive with that answer, but he nodded.  
"It'll be fine." I assured. "Last year we were piles of coal, it can't be that bad."  
"I thought you looked cute." Mrs. Hudson assured.  
"Although you scowled through the whole thing." Molly pointed out.  
"I remember watching that parade." John said, but didn't say if he liked the outfits or not.  
"I'm starving!" screamed a familiar voice.  
"And so the sleeping beast awakes." I muttered, making Molly and Mrs. Hudson glare. Irene burst in the car, her hair a complete mess, as if she literally just woke up.  
"Good morning Irene." Molly said with a smile. Irene just yawned, plopping down in an armchair.  
"When's breakfast?" she grumbled.  
"It should be coming soon." Mrs. Hudson answered, looking at her watch. I cast John an annoyed look, which he smiled weakly at.  
"I'm starving." She repeated.  
"There's a bowl of fruit on the table, or are you above eating fruit?" I asked.  
"Sherlock, _manners"_ Molly hissed.  
"If she's not using them, I don't have to." I defended.  
"I hate fruit." Irene pointed out.  
"And I was right after all." I pointed out, making Molly just groan.  
"Everyone sleep good?" Mrs. Hudson asked, breaking the small silence.  
"Nope." I said with a sarcastic smile.  
"Well I know you didn't dear, I meant everyone else." She added. John merely nodded, which I found amusing since he was practically passed out on the kitchen table.  
"What happened last night?" Irene asked, but it sounded more like a demand than anything. She needed to learn her place on this train, and just because she's a poor little tribute she needs to treat us with the respect we deserve.  
"We had a sleep walker." Molly said, glancing to me.  
"More like a sleep attacker." John corrected. I glanced at him in offence, and immediately he looked worried, as if I wasn't going to help him win because he said that.  
"And it was some type of show I missed?" Irene asked. Now that I really wanted to punch her for. I wasn't a show, this was seriously a problem, and she just wanted to watch as I went paranoid. If there was anyone I could throw off this train, I know who I'd pick.  
"I'll go check on breakfast then." Mrs. Hudson decided. She got up and left, as if glad to have fond an excuse to leave. I was debating going back to my room; somehow my peaceful darkness became a hangout spot. I was okay with John being here, but the others, the sentimental ones and the, Irene, were getting on my nerves. I didn't know what was different about John; I just know there was something that separated him from the idiocy of the rest of the world.  
"So I meet the stylist today right?" Irene asked. I was a bit bored of this information now. Yes, we were going to the capital, yes we'll meet the stylists, no I don't care.  
"Yes, your stylist is a nice woman named Anthea." Molly said.  
"I don't care about her name, she better make me beautiful." Irene hissed.  
"You already are beautiful." Molly assured, as if boosting the self-confidence of a child.  
"I know that, but more." Irene pointed out. That made the three of us clench our fists.  
"Breakfast is ready!" Mrs. Hudson announced.  
" _Finally!"_ Irene hissed, getting up and pushing John out of the way to get to the door first. He gave me a death glare, as if trying to say hers will be the first skull at the end of his knife. I gave a smile of agreement, walking to the dining hall. Indeed breakfast was ready, food piled high in bowls and platters. Irene had taken the head of the table this time, loading eggs onto her plate while eating a piece of toast. John and I sat next to each other, and Mrs. Hudson and Molly took the seats opposite. To my displeasure, Irene was to my right, so I knew I wouldn't get any of the food on that side. John took reasonable portions of his food, asking everyone if they wanted whatever it was before he put the bowl back. It was a little bit intimidating with him being so polite; we were polar opposites, except of course when he was bumping into furniture. I ate a piece of toast and had a couple of pieces of bacon, my guilty pleasure. John was eating his fair share, taking my advice to keep the calories up before the games.  
"Are you all excited for the Capital?" Mrs. Hudson asked. I twirled my finger in the air with sarcastic excitement.  
"I think I'll fit right in there." Irene insisted. Oh yes you will, with the snobby fake jerks.  
"I heard they were a little bit, odd." John guessed.  
"Alien is a better word for it." I corrected.  
"Everywhere is different Sherlock, and these people's way of life is different from ours. That doesn't mean they're aliens." Molly defended. Ugh, sometimes her positivity on the world was just enough to make me sick. I don't see how she does it; she was literally through living hell and will stick up for even President Snow if you call him a dictator. And she didn't argue with our Irene comments, which really must mean she doesn't like her tribute. After breakfast we were told to go get ready, so I simply showered and changed back into my clothes from yesterday. I dried my hair in the extreme hair dryer thing, which was completely unnecessary, but it worked fine so I didn't complain. After I got all cleaned up I went back out to the living room car, where Molly, Mrs. Hudson, and John were all sitting. Mrs. Hudson was talking about some makeover show the capital had, John and Molly were listening politely but their eyes were vacant. They all looked nice, John was wearing a simple button down shirt, Mrs. Hudson in a green dress with blue stripes, and Molly in a canary yellow dress with ruffles. It was no mystery what was taking Irene so long, I wondered if she would go through the entire makeup supply on that train throughout the day. I sighed, sitting in a lone armchair and blocking out the conversation they were sort of having. I didn't want to go back to the capital; it would definitely bring back miserable memories. I hated to see John go through all of this, because even though he looks tough on the outside, I knew from experience that he was sobbing with terror on the inside. And when we got to the capital I knew we were one step closer to having to let him go, watch him disappear in the tube to his probable death. I pushed those thoughts aside for now; we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Irene entered just in time, because we were just starting to enter the capital. I knew there would be people outside watching the train and just dying to see the tributes before the parade, which was tonight already. We could see the skyscrapers long before we were actually upon them, and it warmed my heart to see John gaping with amazement. He had never seen anything more than three stories tall before, or at least not in person. I joined him at the window; leaning against the glass pane and watching the city come closer and closer. By now you could hear the noise, the talking, cars, and trains zigzagging throughout the Capital.  
"It's amazing." John said, his eyes straining to see.  
"Wait until you get on top of the roof of the tribute center. Everything looks tiny." I said.  
"You're allowed up there?" John asked.  
"Well they never said you're not." I pointed out. I didn't mention that while up there I very much considered just jumping to get it over with. Apparently there's a harmless force field to stop such a simple, non-profitable death.  
"How many people even live there?" he asked with amazement.  
"Too many to count." I assured.  
"Wow." He muttered under his breath. I smiled at him, his ignorance was adorable.  
"Are you coming to the stylist with me?" he asked.  
"No, but I'll be in the building." I sighed.  
"What do you have to do there?"  
"Oh, they expect me to socialize with the other mentors, like that's seriously going to happen." I laughed.  
"Can't you just come with me?" he asked, almost hopefully.  
"I don't think you'll want me to."  
"Why not?"  
"Because in most of the process you don't have clothes on." I pointed out.  
"Ya, maybe you shouldn't come." He decided, but I just laughed. As the city was coming closer, Irene walked to the window and looked up at with a scowl. She wasn't as impressed as John was of course, it seemed like even a real dinosaur wouldn't impress her.  
"We'll be there very soon, are you all packed up?" Mrs. Hudson asked. John nodded, but Irene threw a mini tantrum, saying that she wasn't told she needed to pack and left the room with an angry huff. The compartment seemed a lot nicer without her. Molly went to help her pack, and Mrs. Hudson walked off somewhere, leaving just John and I. Finally the train started going under other tracks, so John would crane his neck to look above us, seeing only a mere flash of metal as the other trains past. The train was slowing down now, approaching the station, but there were crowds already lined up on viewing platforms the capital had installed. John waved excitedly, and I just frowned at the crowds, their cameras flashing and their weird hairdos getting in the way of the people behind them trying to get a look at us.  
"They're so weird looking!" he exclaimed as we saw a man with his hair cut into lines to match his tattooed skin. He resembled a candy cane, but apparently here that was totally normal.  
"They're probably thinking the same way about us." I said with a smile down to him. The pure excitement in his face broke my heart. He seemed to forget that he was a tribute in the most deadly game around. We passed into a tunnel temporarily, but there were more paparazzi waiting there, jumping up and down to get a look at us.  
"I feel famous." John commented as he waved.  
"You are famous." I pointed out.  
"Not for the right reasons." He debated.  
"Enjoy it while you can. And remember, play the innocent cute thing." I pointed out.  
"Am I doing good now?" he asked, mimicking his smile and wave. I laughed, not helping but think how adorable he actually was.  
"You're perfect John." I assured. He smiled shyly; obviously I had, once again, not chosen my words the best. "Oh, you know what I mean." I said, rolling my eyes. The train stopped and we both went to get our stuff from our rooms, meeting Irene and Molly in the middle of the hallway, bumping into Irene's many bags. I didn't even know you were allowed to bring more than a small bag, but she seemed to have a duffel bag, carryon, and makeup bag all in obnoxious cheetah print. I only had a small backpack of my stuff, carrying it back out to the main door. The rest of the people were already waiting, and with one final goodbye to the train the door opened automatically. The smell hit me first, so much congestion in the air from so many people, trains, and cars. Then came the noise, all of these people screaming for us to look at them as we walked off the train and onto the platform. Cameras were flashing, people we practically tackling each other just to see us. I put a protective hand on John's shoulder, steering him in the right direction and away from the side rails. Irene, on the other hand, was getting right up with the crowd, taking selfies and signing things, blowing kisses to the guys and clapping people's hands. She was a people person; I could give her that, but everything else about her I very much disliked. John didn't protest either; he seemed to like the crowd behind soundproof glass, and not in this close proximity. When we finally got into the building, the noise reduced to nothing but a few people chatting and the pleasant trickle of a fountain in the corner. The good thing about the station is that it connected right into the tribute center, which was an elegant skyscraper designed to hold the tributes in the best way possible before death. The lobby had hanging decorations and marble floors; John was simply amazed to see such tall ceilings. When our small group loaded into the elevator (Irene's bags taking up a lot of room) Mrs. Hudson pressed the twelve button. The floors to which we were assigned were based off of district, so of course we were the very top. The elevator was glass, so you could see out every side except the doors. From all angles you could see the city getting smaller and smaller as we went up, which John smiled widely at. I could tell he didn't want to look like a child, but even I had wanted to jump up and down with excitement on my first elevator ride. Before we knew it, we were taller than most of the other buildings, and a soft ding announced that we were at our floor, floor twelve. We out into the living room, where the elevator connects to the floor. It hadn't changed a bit, which was a shame because it felt just like I was the tribute again. I had to remind myself that I was not going into those games again, but my body betrays me when I have to sleep and dream. The tribute center is fancier than the train, which, it had seemed before, couldn't be possible. Irene didn't look impressed; she just asked where her room was and went to 'get decent' which confused me because she already took about five hours in her room on the train.  
"So this is it then, the tribute center?" John said, talking more of finality than a question.  
"The fanciest and largest coffin you'll ever be in." I assured, getting yet another glare from Molly. I should keep a record to see how many things I say to make her mad in one day.  
"Certainly is fancy." John agreed, looking up at the high ceiling and repositioning his backpack on his shoulder. "Where's my room?" he added.  
"Next to Irene's I suppose." I guessed, which was where it was for me.  
"Okay, thanks." He muttered, walking off down the hall. Molly showed me where my room was, so I started to get unpacked, throwing all of my stuff where they should go. I debated before putting the knife under my pillow, it was dangerous, and there were four more fancy twirling bedposts to hack away at. But I couldn't fall asleep without it, without knowing that if there was an attack, I would be prepared. And it was a lot easier to break into this place; there was an elevator that ran through the entire thing. I know we can put a lock on it that would prevent the doors from opening, but it was so much easier than jumping onto a moving train. With the door shut and locked, I sat on the bed and looked around at all of these fancy features. It really made me terrified, for myself of course, but more for John. I didn't want to get attached to him, but every time he smiles it feels like I had a normal, happy life since I was born. Something about him that just made things better. But he was probably terrified, and in all fairness I was the one that was supposed to keep things better, cheer him up, give him tips and confidence, everything like that. I didn't want to send him in the games, I didn't want to see the fear in his eyes, I didn't want to watch him die. I suddenly remembered a chain around my neck, one that I had put on when I was getting ready on the train. I pulled the charm out, examining it. This had been my token upon entering the games last year, to symbolize my district. It wasn't anything fancy, just a little number twelve and a flame design, but it had been through the entire thing with me. It had rolled in mud, jumped in water, and nearly caught on fire throughout my time in the arena. At night I used to rub the smooth side of the pendant and pretend I was back home, in my bed with the draft making me pull up my blankets to my head. I sighed, so much has changed, but the only thing that happened was my name had been pulled. It was funny how a slip of paper could ruin your life. I sighed, ruffling my hair and tucking the necklace back into my shirt. I didn't know why I kept that thing, sure it was memory, but it wasn't exactly good ones. Maybe it's more hope than anything. Hope that I could get back to that town, hope that I might just live to see another day.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a nervous knock on the door.  
"Go away!" I yelled.  
"We're going down to the stylists now, they request your presence!" John called, his voice muffled through the thick wooden door.  
"Coming." I groaned. I didn't want to go, it would be one thing if I actually had a purpose, but no, I was stuck talking to the other mentors of the other districts as if we were all old friends. Molly, on the other hand, did have old friends in the group, so it's either stand next to her while she and a bunch of other girls squeaked and giggled or find a chair and sit. I walked out of the door, seeing John had already left and made my way into the living room. Even Irene had beaten me here, which was a bit insulting, but the good thing about it was as soon as I arrived there was no sitting around. According to Mrs. Hudson we were a little bit behind schedule, which wasn't a real problem since there was always back up plans for everything that happened. John seemed nervous ever since I had told him about the stylist's methods, but I just smiled encouragingly to him on the elevator.  
"It'll be fine. They're so tattooed and colored they don't even seem like people." I assured him. John seemed to relax a little bit after that. I didn't exactly think my information was helpful, but as long as he was happy I was happy. We were taken to the stylists in another fancy train, but this one was only meant for small trips. It was complete with TV's, comfy couches and chairs, and even a snack bar, but no bedrooms. I just stood by the door; I knew we would only be traveling for about a minute. I watched John, who was sitting in a chair closest to the window and looking out. Even when he wasn't over reacting, it was slightly entertaining to watch the excitement in his eyes. I wasn't nearly as fascinated when I was here, but then again he said he came from a poor family, they probably only had a small TV for electronics, this must seem like an alien world. The train stopped lightly, it barely budged when the brakes were turned on, and the doors slid open with a slight hiss of air pressure releasing. We were right up to the station, so there were some people taking pictures, but they weren't the aggressive paparazzi at the first one. We went out into the fancy lobby, and immediately I was choked with the smells of perfume, hairspray, and sweet smelling lotions. It was enough to water my eyes. The lobby was just as fancy as the tribute center, but this one wasn't empty. There were many people wandering around, mostly mentors and escorts, waiting for their tributes to be done. Mrs. Hudson went to the reception desk and checked us in. She would be escorting both tributes to the stylists, so I didn't have to worry about getting John lost in this maze of beauty products.  
"Come along dears!" she called.  
"Good luck." I muttered to John, who just returned a nervous smile and followed Irene to where Mrs. Hudson was waiting. Once they disappeared down the hallway, Molly dragged me over to mingle with the others. I really didn't want to, but I met all of her little mentor friends. I didn't know how it was possible to have friends from other districts, but they acted like they've known each other since birth. She made me shake hands with Teresa, Victoria, Meghan, Carrie, and a whole bunch of other girls that I didn't remember. They all seemed to love me, but every time one of them seemed to want to talk to me I'd mumble and look away. In my time with this group I found out one thing, I was able to spot an empty set of chairs on the opposite side of the room, and they looked very inviting. I excused myself, claiming to have to use the bathroom but made a beeline for the chairs before someone else could come and ruin the seclusion. It was nice a quiet back here, I could look out a small window at the colorful people/aliens, and it didn't smell nearly as strong. I wondered how John was doing with the stylists. I knew he'd hate the entire process, but I was sort of looking forward to him in makeup. I didn't know what it was with John that made my positive emotions out, humor, excitement, sentiment even. I never cared once about anyone else's amazement, like if Molly was excited over a little puppy I'd look away with a scowl, but if it was John I'd laugh and pet the dog with him. Maybe it was the whole mentor thing, but I was getting much too attached to him. I knew that there was a tiny chance he would make it out, and I knew that if he died my heart would break. Continue along this path and I would be downright suicidal.  
"This seat taken?" asked a voice above me. I looked up to see another mentor with blondish gray hair and a kind face.  
"Yes." I muttered, not wanting to be bothered.  
"By who?"  
"Pick a person." I decided, waving my hand carelessly.  
"I pick me." he decided, sitting in the chair next to a small table. I sighed; he didn't really take a hint did he? The man picked up one of the magazines from a pile on the table, flipping through it carelessly.  
"Hate this place." He decided, an attempt to start conversation apparently.  
"I detest this place." I added, one upping the negativity.  
"You're last year's winner right?" he asked. I hummed my agreement. "I called you Mr. Frowns, what's your real name?"  
"Mr. Frowns?" I asked. I did frown a lot, but I didn't think I was worth that name.  
"You say with a frown. See where I'm going here?" he pointed out.  
"I'm Sherlock Holmes." I answered.  
"Greg Lestrade, nice to meet you." He said, holding out a hand. I just looked at it with a bored expression, not shaking his hand. "Okay then." He decided, pulling his hand back. "You were really good in the games, the whole underdog thing."  
"Just staying alive." I pointed out.  
"I think this will be my sixth year being a victor." He said, counting his fingers and nodding. "Ya, six." He confirmed.  
"Brilliant." I said sarcastically.  
"So why are you sitting here alone?" he asked.  
"Obviously I'm not alone anymore."  
"But I saw you talking to all of those girls, what went wrong?"  
"I wasn't talking to them, they were talking _at_ me. I don't care for people." I said, casting him a glare, trying to pass the hint. But apparently he wasn't the brightest, so he kept talking.  
"Who's you're tribute?" he asked.  
"John Watson, District Twelve." I said simply.  
"I've got some Jeff guy from Five, honestly I don't think he'll last the blood bath." Greg shrugged, as if it was just another day. The thought of John being struck down in the beginning made me shudder a little bit.  
"That's a positive thought." I muttered.  
"And you're all positive." He pointed out. Once again I glared at him, but he just smiled at me. He was beginning to get extremely annoying.  
"I only state the truth." I muttered. "And a lot of people don't see the truth as positive."  
"I don't think there's one positive thing about this whole thing." Greg decided.  
"No, there's not." I agreed. That means you, idiot! Go away! Greg sighed, as if trying to think about another possible topic to bore me with. I cherished that moment of silence, but knew it wouldn't last.  
"Could you introduce me to some of those women then?" he asked with a smile, as if we were already best friends.  
"I think you're quite able to introduce yourself." I pointed out. It wasn't supposed to be mean or sarcastic; I seriously doubted he didn't know his own name. He had successfully introduced himself to me, and I hated everyone, just because of the change in gender I didn't see what the problem was.  
"I'm guessing you're not the type to date." Greg guessed. I gave him a very shocked look. Was he implying what I thought?  
"Uh… Gram,"  
"Greg." He pointed out. Yes, whatever.  
"As much as I am flattered, I am not interested in going out with…."  
"Wait a second, um, no, absolutely not, I meant you aren't the type to date other people, not that I was asking you out or anything." he pointed out. I nodded, very much relived. I hated him as a acutance, I couldn't imagine him as a boyfriend. Not that I wanted to anyway.  
"Changing the subject completely, how did you end up winning your games anyway?" Greg asked.  
"I don't like to talk or think about the games, I'm sure you know quite well and if not I'll probably be on YouTube." I pointed out.  
"I don't like thinking about my games much, the first couple of years I got such bad nightmares it was almost unbearable." Greg agreed.  
"Last night I woke the entire train up because, in my sleep, I had decapitated the wooden bedpost with a knife, apparently thinking it was a tribute." I said quickly. I don't know why I revealed that slightly personal information; he seemed the type to not be able to keep his mouth shut. It seemed like I was challenging him to who had it worse, not that it was a good competition to win.  
"Oh my god, that seriously sucks, did anyone get hurt?" he asked, looking actually worried for the wellbeing of the District Twelve train gang.  
"The bed did." I pointed out. He laughed, but shut himself up when he saw I was serious. I noticed Molly coming over, and had a slight hope that she would let me leave. Greg seemed to sit up straighter in his chair and smiled at her as she approached.  
"Sorry to interrupt, but Sara and Anthea are in the conference room, they have a couple of ideas for the parade." She pointed out, her eyes wandering from me to Greg in happy suspicion. I groaned, but got to my feet. I'd rather be stuck in a corner talking to one person than in a room with about 10 other… things.  
"See you later Sherlock!" Greg said happily, but I just waved halfheartedly and followed Molly down the hallway.  
"You made a friend, that's great!" she said excitedly.  
"Not my friend, some annoying guy that wouldn't leave, big difference." I pointed out.  
"Well, you're talking, that's a start." She pointed out. I just rolled my eyes, annoyed to think she considered that Greg person to be my friend. We walked through a fancy automatic door and into a room that I wanted to gas mask in. There were a lot of people huddled around a table; I spotted Mrs. Hudson arguing over something with my old stylist, Sara. Irene was getting in the action, seemingly upset about something, but she was always upset so I didn't see a difference there. Both of the tributes were wearing dressing gowns, like the ones in the doctor's office, except these just looked like plain white sheets. John looked very uncomfortable, he was sitting in a chair with his arms crossed, looking around the room but keeping his mouth shut. I walked over to him, moving the chair next to him closer since it looked like Irene was going to start tackling people.  
"How'd it go?" I asked, looking at his face for the first time. The most immediate difference was the eyeliner and that weird dark stuff they put on eyelashes, something with an m, but his eyes stood out immensely.  
"I'm wearing makeup." He pointed out.  
"And you look wonderful." I laughed. But behind my laugh I was actually serious, he did look quite attractive. If I actually cared about relationships I think it would've made this whole thing a lot more awkward.  
"I have lipstick on!" he hissed. I raised an eyebrow at him.  
"I had all that too last year, it was repulsive." I agreed.  
"Does it come off?"  
"Eventually, but you have to keep it on until after the parade." I pointed out. He groaned, poking his cheek lightly.  
"I can feel the blush flaking."  
"That's why you're not supposed to touch it!" I said obviously. He frowned, looking mortified.  
"Don't be so embarrassed, look at the style crews!" I pointed out. They were absolutely ridiculous, piercings, tattoos, hair in such weird shapes I thought they must be plastic, outfits that made my eyes hurt.  
"I'm a guy, I'm not supposed to wear makeup though." He defended.  
"That one's a guy." I guessed, pointing at one that was wearing completely orange.  
"Really?" John asked with confusion, looking over the arguing people to get a better look. "I really can't tell." He decided.  
"My point exactly. You still look normal, just, enhanced." I said, flaring my hands out for exaggeration.  
"It almost looks like you wear makeup too." he pointed out.  
"Are you serious?" I asked, a little bit offended.  
"Do you?" he asked with a small laugh.  
"No of course not!" I hissed, rubbing my cheeks to show him.  
"Well then you're very pale." He decided. "And have dark eyelashes."  
"Was that a complement?" I asked.  
"I guess it was." John agreed.  
"Why thank you." I said, doing my best to mimic a girl's hair flip with my short hair, which made John laugh for real this time.  
"Sherlock dear, what do you think of this outfit?" Mrs. Hudson asked, holding out a diagram for me to look at. It was some type of jumpsuit thing, so I just nodded my approval.  
"You didn't even read it!" she debated, shoving the paper in my hand. I looked over it, seeing that it was a completely golden suit, and according to the little scribble in the corner, it was supposed to glow, like a light in the mines.  
"That's good, ya, I like it." I agreed, passing the paper to John. "You'll be little rays of sunshine."  
"Or hellfire. I guess it's better than being a pile of coal." He agreed, handing the paper back to Mrs. Hudson.  
"I've got two yes's over here!" she announced, making Irene wail with her complains.  
"I can tell you're very into this." I observed.  
"It's pathetic." He groaned.  
"Want to find a coffee shop?" I suggested.  
"I'd love to find my clothes." He added, gesturing to the sheet he was wearing. I looked at the table, now Irene was screaming, my eardrums pounding in my head. Apparently there was 'too much fabric' and they were preventing her from playing the role she needed to win. Mrs. Hudson and Molly were trying to take a peaceful approach, but the stylists were yelling right back.  
"They'll never notice, come on." I decided.  
"Sherlock I don't have any pants on!" John growled.  
"Too much information John, come on, let's go find them." I insisted. "Just act natural." I added in a hiss. I had some money in my pocket from the district, so, as unsuspicious as we could, John and I slipped from the room.  
"Aren't you supposed to be a mentor?" he pointed out as we walked through the hallway. John was leading, looking for the room he was in previously.  
"I'm supposed to be yes, I never said I was good at it though." I defended. He stifled a laugh and kept walking.  
"In here." he said, peaking through the tinted glass. "It's empty, I won't be a moment." He slipped inside, and, as he promised, he was out in less than five minutes, in the clothes he had been wearing previously.  
"You smeared your makeup." I pointed out.  
"Shut up." he hissed. Now that he was in normal clothes we could look totally casual walking out of the front glass doors and into the city.


	7. Chapter 7

It smelled awful, but I knew I wouldn't lose John in the crowd. He was the only one not wearing neon colors from head to toe. Some of the people stopped to say hi to him and ask questions, he even took a selfie with one of them involuntarily; I had to pull him away.  
"You look too abnormal, obviously a tribute given the building we just left." I pointed out.  
"Are we allowed to just leave like that?" he asked nervously.  
"I'll take the blame." I assured, leading him down the road and trying to find any coffee shops. I knew the Capital people drank it like it was liquid gold, so there had to be shops on every corner. I pushed through the crowd, some giving me annoyed looks and some looking like they wanted to give me their number, but I ignored both. John stayed close behind me, taking advantage of the space I provided in the crowd.  
"Here we go." I said, looking up at a small shop. We walked in, and indeed it smelled like coffee. Ever since the games I've had a taste for the stuff. It was very energetic, I didn't know why I liked it, but every time I drank a cup my mood improved. A little bell rung on top of the door, but I noticed there was no actual bell, but some type of automatic system. As with all coffee shops, it was set up as more of a home than anything. There were armchairs and fires, people lounging on almost every one of them and sipping their hot beverages.  
"Ever had coffee before?" I asked as we joined the back of the line.  
"No sir." He said, looking up at the selections. It looked like a blackboard, but sometimes I saw things switched out by themselves, so it must be automated.  
"Don't call me sir, it's weird." I decided.  
"You're a mentor, it's only polite."  
"I'm only two years older than you." I pointed out.  
"Still older."  
"Why am I even having this conversation." I muttered to myself. The line moved quite fast since everything was basically machines, except for the people behind the register. I ordered a caramel latte for myself, and John just got a vanilla creamer, only warm milk with vanilla. I had tried to get him to order something stronger, but he insisted that he wanted to sleep tonight. That's part of the reason I drank coffee, to help me stay up later to avoid the nightmares. Once we got our drinks we sat at a two seated chair in the window, so we could people watch and so if the rest of the people come looking for us it would be hard to miss. I sipped my drink cautiously but persistently, while John just blew into his drink and stirred it to try to get it cooled down.  
"You are such a sissy." I laughed.  
"What am I supposed to do?" he defended.  
"You're supposed to drink it!" I pointed out, demonstrating with my own cup in case he forgot how to. He rolled his eyes, but sipped the drink.  
"It's good, a little sweet though." He decided, looking out the window. I noticed there were lip marks from the lipstick or whatever he had on left on his cup, but I laughed silently to myself and didn't point it out.  
"How long do you think we've got before they come looking?" he asked.  
"Who knows? Molly will probably notice first, she's one to like everyone's opinions."  
"Will they be mad?" he asked.  
"I don't see why they should be, we both agreed on the light thing." I pointed out.  
"Ya, but wonder if there's another one, or if Irene threatens everyone until they have to give in. I'm not going in that parade with just a loincloth thank you very much." He hissed. I tried to hide my laugher because he looked pretty upset, but I couldn't help it really. I hadn't laughed in a year or so, and here I was cracking up with some guy I met yesterday.  
"Well, would you rather here or there?" I asked.  
"Here." he muttered guiltily, taking another sip of his drink.  
"You've got a mustache." I pointed out. He groaned, wiping his face carelessly with the back of his hand.  
"Now don't mess up that makeup." I pointed out. John just glared, but I smiled at him innocently.  
"You are a serious jerk." He decided.  
"Oh don't take it like that, you're beautiful." I assured. Now even he couldn't hide a smile. The moment was ruined though, by two very angry women banging on the window. I almost jumped out of my chair in fear, but John ran to out the door like a good little tribute. When I got out there, Mrs. Hudson looked like she was going to breathe fire and Molly looked mad. If Molly looks mad, you know you've got a problem. The entire trip back Mrs. Hudson was dragging me painfully by the ear, yelling at me about all sorts of things I didn't care about. It made quite a scene, but I didn't dare fight her since I was scared she'd rip the entire half of my face off. Apparently it was extremely immature to take the tribute away from the stylists, and there were very important decisions to be made, and John's makeup was all messed up, and it was entirely my fault. I tried to defend that I couldn't stand it in the room any more, but apparently the lobby was suitable to escape to. When I was dragged back in, the entire room of mentors went silent, except for uncontrolled laughter by someone I knew was Greg.  
"Now you sit and stay here, and if you wander off I'll throw you into a bus!" Mrs. Hudson screamed, shoving me to the floor in a heap. John looked terrified but all the same trying to control his laughter. I got to my feet, brushing off my jacket and ruffling my hair back to its original state.  
"Give me that." Mrs. Hudson hissed, taking my coffee and dumped it into the nearest trash can.  
"I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson, for sneaking off I mean." John said nervously, as if she would go after him next.  
"That's quite alright dear, I know it's not your fault." She assured.  
"Well I don't think Sherlock should be getting…" John started.  
"He's the mentor; he's completely responsible for everything you do." Mrs. Hudson pointed out. John muttered something I didn't understand.  
"Now come on, we'll have to redo your makeup." She said with a hiss to me.  
"Did they choose an outfit?" I asked as they were going to walk away.  
"Yes, the light ones, although Irene's on a little bit of a laughing gas." Molly said. With that, they walked away, John giving me one last fateful look before allowing himself to be led away. Once again I sat in the lone chair, and as if on cue, Greg bounced right over, as if happy his 'friend' had returned.  
"Okay, you totally just got beat up by an old lady."  
"Don't call her an old lady or I'll have her beat you up next." I pointed out.  
"What happened?" he asked.  
"We were in the conference room and the other tribute was going mad, so I sneaked John out and we got coffee, nothing too severe." I resisted the urge to message my ear, which was throbbing painfully, but decided against it.  
"That's not very smart." Greg pointed out.  
"It's better than being attacked. They put her on laughing gas apparently." I defended.  
"What's her name?" he asked.  
"Irene Adler, psychopath if you ask me." I sighed, old news, obviously.  
"Then you two will get along great then." He laughed.  
"I'm a high functioning sociopath, do your research." I snapped. That had become one of my commonly used lines now. No one seemed to know the difference, or that sociopaths even existed.  
"I guess you're getting along just fine with John then? You do know no matter how much you two hit it off he's still getting thrown in that arena." Greg pointed out. I took a sharp breath, not looking at him but knowing what he said was true. There was nothing I could do to stop that now.  
"I know." I muttered.  
"I'm saying don't get attached." He added.  
"I'm not attached." I hissed, trying to make that point very clear.  
"Hey, I only want to help." Greg defended.  
"Well you're doing a very poor job at the moment." I snapped. He was saying what I had been thinking for a while now, don't get attached to John, but I couldn't help it, he was so likable, and he seemed to like me back, that's something you don't ignore. Greg stayed silent for a little bit, as if by some miracle, but went right back to talking.  
"My first tribute I had to mentor was a friend, I guess. But then he went in the arena and got ripped apart by some alligator thing. That broke my heart, but I knew then that I couldn't really make friends with the people doomed to die." Greg shrugged.  
"Please don't say he's going to die! I think he has a chance of making it out alive, and even if you're not confidence in your tribute that's not my problem!" I yelled, bringing a lot of attention to the scene. The room was quiet once again, but this time it was Greg who was being judged. You're not supposed to doubt your own tribute, that brings down their confidence and sends them spiraling even closer to the pit. Greg smiled guiltily at the room, but eventually they lost interest in the drama over here and turned back to their conversation.  
"I think I'm needed, elsewhere." He decided, jumping up from the chair and walking away without a goodbye. I was very thankful about this rare occasion of silence, so I sank back into my thoughts. I wasn't attached, I was simply being a good mentor, you're supposed to act as their friend and give them tips to help them stay alive. I decided to leave that topic, I couldn't think about that now, so the rest of the day I was thinking about how it must be at home. Mycroft was probably eating cake at the moment in front of the TV. He might even see our group coming off the train; I think I saw a news camera on the platform. Mom was probably starting on lunch; Dad was probably reading a book or something. At this time of the day, I would still be in my room, whether or not I had nightmares would depend on if there was light or not.  
"Sherlock, we're stopping for some lunch in the dining hall." Molly's voice shook me from my thoughts, and I just groaned.  
"Do I have to?" I asked.  
"It would be the right thing to do." Molly pointed out.  
"That's not an answer."  
"I think John might want you to come." She said after a bit of thinking. I groaned, but I couldn't leave John with these idiots, all alone.  
"Is Irene still tame?" I asked.  
"For now. I think in a half hour she might start throwing things again, so cherish the peace." Molly decided with a laugh. I nodded, not returning the smile but getting to my feet.  
"What happened to your friend?" she asked.  
"Not my friend." I defended.  
"But where'd he go?"  
"I may have yelled at him and he left." I said, as if it was just another day.  
"Not your friend anymore then." She agreed.  
"Never was my friend, shut up." I snapped. She rolled her eyes, but unlike Greg, was able to keep her mouth shut. We were silent all the way to the dining hall, where the small group was sitting at the end of one of the long tables. Irene was smiling, and I knew that never happened, so she must still be on whatever drug they gave her. I had an urge to go find where they kept this drug, if I could be all smiley like her it would be worth getting my hands on. John looked bitter though, slouching at the end of the table and eating fries slowly. I sat across from him while Molly went to sit next to Irene, a bold choice if you ask me.  
"They won't let me eat anything that I can't eat in one bite, because of the lip gloss." John grumbled as a greeting.  
"I remember that rule. All I ate was blueberries the entire day." I laughed.  
"It's not funny." He hissed, folding up a particularly large fry to make it eatable.  
"Molly and I had a bet on what flavor the lip gloss is…" I said with a laugh. John just threw a fry at me and scowled, I bet he never expecting to be on the other end of that stupid pick up line.  
"Sara's mad at you by the way, for taking me out for coffee." John pointed out.  
"I think the only two people not mad at me are you and Irene, but once she gets off those drugs she'll be furious that she wasn't invited." I laughed.  
"Then I'm sorry, because you'll have a rough day if she's after you." John decided.  
"I felt like it was a good way to bond, so you trust me better to give you tips. And remember that when you're in the games I'll be out here convincing the sponsors to send you parachutes." I remembered.  
"I'm not complaining, it's much better than being choked alive with hairspray." John assured. I nodded in agreement.  
"Are you going to eat anything?" he asked after a little while.  
"Not hungry." I shrugged, which was true. I had breakfast today, and dinner last night, sort of speaking, so I was good for a little while.  
"What time is the parade?" he asked.  
"Six o'clock tonight." I said, checking the clock above the door, which read one twelve thirty four.  
"Plenty of time then." John said with relief, grabbing another French fry.  
"You've got a manicure." I observed, which made him throw another fry at me in disgust. I simply caught it and ate it with a sarcastic smile, which made John just roll his eyes.  
"Your nails are almost as clean as mine, and you haven't gotten a manicure." He pointed out.  
"Is it a crime to be presentable?" I defended, looking at my own nails. Yes, they had no dirt on them and were well rounded, but I did care about my appearance, cameras were everywhere and my mom always frowns when I look bad. Apparently we have an image to keep up. The lunch ended when Irene's smile faded, and then we were politely escorted from the cafeteria as she started using choice words to express her feelings about being drugged.  
"She curses more than you do." I muttered.  
"I don't curse all the time! Just that one!" he defended.  
"Sure you don't." I sighed with a smile.  
"In one hour we're supposed to be back here, but for now we can go to the center and relax for a bit." Mrs. Hudson decided, as if that were great news.  
"Why just an hour, I thought you said six?" John asked.  
"They've got to get you ready." I pointed out.  
"Don't I just have to wear the outfit?" he asked, sounding nervous.  
"No of course not, if you think this is a lot of makeup just wait until the parade." I said with a laugh.


	8. Chapter 8

We all loaded back into the train through the underground station, arriving at the tribute center in as little as three minutes. Molly and Mrs. Hudson stayed in the lobby to talk to people they knew, and right after we got up the elevator Irene disappeared into her room for who knows what. Instead of talking to John, like I probably should've done, I disappeared to the safety of my own room, locking the door and sitting on the bed. I wasn't really shaken up, but I debated getting the drug shoe out anyway. In the end I decided against it, because if John or someone else picked up on the fact that I was high there would be a lot more problems than a small trip to the coffee shop. I just sat there, hidden in my thoughts, and taking advantage of the peace. The lights were on, and I debated turning them off when I heard a knock at the door.  
"What!" I snapped, not wanting to be bothered at the moment.  
"It's John!" he announced.  
"What do you want?" I muttered, less aggressive this time.  
"I know what we can do to keep track of the tributes skills and stuff!" he said. The door handle wiggled impatiently, so I got up and unlocked it, thankful I didn't inject myself before.  
"What do you mean by that?" I asked curiously.  
"Well, you know what you said about the scrapbook, well maybe we can make a map thing with pictures we cut out." he suggested. I gave him a blank look, but went over to sit on the bed again. He closed the door and sat next to me, which made me scoot over a bit for personal space.  
"Explain." I decided. He looked up at the wall, obviously thinking. Then he bolted to his feet, removing a picture of some bird thing, leaving a large, empty wall.  
"Okay, say we somehow manage to get the head shots of all the tributes, we tape them here in a big circle and have sticky notes with their names and skills and stuff, so I could match a name with a face. Then we could use string or something to connect the headshots through the middle to represent allies, so say the Two girl was an ally with the Six girl, we'd tape a string between them so I know that neither would be traveling alone." John planned, demonstrating with his hands and walking along the wall.  
"That's genius!" I exclaimed with a proud smile.  
"I just thought of it, so there could be flaws, but I thought maybe it would be okay." he muttered, getting shy at being called a genius. Once again my brain betrayed me by labeling him as adorable.  
"It must be the makeup." I guessed with a smile.  
"Where could we get pictures though?" he asked, ignoring that comment.  
"Well, I was thinking people would be uploading videos from the parade, if there are any good ones we can find a printer or something." he planned. I smiled, excited about this abstract idea.  
"John, you are seriously amazing." I decided, getting to my feet also and mapping out the wall in my head.  
"Thank you." He said with a proud smile.  
"There might already be pictures from the paparazzi, have you seen a computer anywhere?" I asked.  
"There was a laptop on the coffee table, but that must belong to someone." He pointed out. I didn't wait to hear the last part of the sentence, ownership wasn't a problem now, unless we break it in some way, but we could always afford to buy a new one. I ran to the living room, grabbing the shiny gray laptop and running back to the room, where John was waiting nervously.  
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked.  
"Nope." I shrugged, kicking the door shut behind me and sitting back on the bed.  
"Any printers around here?" I asked again.  
"Um, probably in that little office thing on the ground floor." He guessed.  
"How'd you know there an office?"  
"Because I read the map!" he defended, as if that had been an insult.  
"You're a nerd." I laughed.  
"I'm observant! Shut up!" he defended, blushing faintly. I just laughed as the computer booted up. Thankfully there wasn't a password, but we found out if was Molly's computer when the home screen was a picture of me getting a victor's crown. John thought that was quite hilarious, but I just scowled at him. I looked very good in the picture, if I do say so myself, but this only proves that she does fancy me.  
"Do you still have the crown?" John asked as I clicked on the internet and started to google tributes from this year.  
"Oh course."  
"Do you have it with you?" he asked again, looking rather excited.  
"No, it's somewhere in my closet." I shrugged, as if it were just another outfit I never wore.  
"I remember that ceremony, we were all so excited to have another victor." John sighed.  
"Well, we can only hope we have another one this year." I said encouragingly.  
"I'm not sure you'll want Irene as a mentor." He decided, but I knew he was joking around.  
"I meant you, idiot." I laughed. I scrolled through the pictures, there weren't many, but some of them were good quality.  
"Here we go, district one guy, taken five hours ago. This must be one of them." I decided. I saved the picture to a folder I quickly made. I was going to label it tributes, but saw that there already was a folder called that. I just named it map project and continued the search, finding the seven girl and, when John wasn't looking, quickly found a picture of a cartoon troll for what would be his picture on the wall.  
"Okay, we only found two." I decided, about to close the laptop when I remembered the other tribute folder. Had she saved pictures from every tribute she's mentored? I opened the folder, scrolling through the pictures ending with me and that girl I had been with. It was simply the headshot they took of us for evaluations, but it was still a little bit touching to know that she remembered everyone.  
"Run this back, quickly." I decided, shutting the computer down and thrusting it into John's hands. He ran off like a scared rabbit, returning quickly.  
"When should we print them?" he asked.  
"When we've got time, but if I'm correct we should get going soon." I guessed, checking the time on the digital clock.  
"So does Molly fancy you?" John asked with a small laugh. I just groaned.  
"Before you make fun of me, it's not really my fault and I don't fancy her back. I don't date." I said simply.  
"I was able to guess that much." He pointed out.  
"Was that an insult?" I snapped.  
"No, but you told me on the train you hate people, it wasn't a difficult guess." He shrugged.  
"You're smarter than I give you credit for." I decided.  
"And you use very out of date pickup lines." He added.  
"What?" I asked with shock. I hadn't been interested in one girl this entire trip.  
"The whole lip gloss thing." John pointed out.  
"That was what you call a joke, meaning that it was supposed to be funny, and I have no intentions of going out with you." I said simply.  
"That was a tad bit insulting." He decided.  
"Wait, you want to go out?" I asked with even more shock. This was turning in a direction I didn't know or like.  
"No! No, jeez Sherlock don't make this awkward." John muttered.  
"You were the one that made it awkward!" I defended.  
"Come on everyone, we'll be late!" Mrs. Hudson yelled through the flat, which was quite relieving to be honest. John groaned, obviously he was done being their Barbie doll already, but I just laughed, following him to the elevator. I tried to erase the conversation we had just had out of my mind, no relationship, absolutely no dating involved between us. Molly smiled at me, and I tried to keep from going red because of the computer screen. I felt bad for her, but I had absolutely no feelings for her, so it's her problem not mine.  
"Irene let's go!" Mrs. Hudson yelled loudly, making John jump. That was the thing about Mrs. Hudson, she could yell louder than you'd ever expect her to. Irene came out of the hall, shuffling her feet in protest and looking tired, but as soon as she stepped in the elevator we were off, shooting to the lobby.  
"We'll be late again. So far we don't look too responsible." Mrs. Hudson groaned. I felt their eyes on me because of the whole coffee thing, but I didn't see it as of much of a crime as they did. We rode the train back to the stylists, and this time I got to come with them to approve measurements and stuff. I had no interest in measurements, but it was an opportunity to talk to John, and when given a choice between talking to him or talking to that Greg guy, the choice was obvious. Besides, I'm sure he'd rather I was there to keep him company anyway. We went into the back rooms where we stole the clothes back, and they Molly gave me a magazine and pointed out the nearest chair, like I was a child that needed to be occupied. There were two platforms in the middle of the room, John was told to stand on one, and Irene went on the other. They began taking measurements, from the length of their calf to the width of their shoulders. It was unbearably boring to watch, and John started yawning through the whole thing. My eyes darted around the room, not really looking for anything in particular, but I spotted a little bottle labeled Nitrous Oxide. Given my nerdy habits in previous school years, I knew that was actually laughing gas. I looked around, wondering if anyone would notice if I slipped it into my pocket. In the end I decided against it, I had stocked up the drug shoe before we came, I'll be fine without. And if things get bad, I could always come here and take it if I really needed to. The measurements were done and the people rushed off into another room, where I suppose they'd put the outfits together. The stylists took that as an opportunity to do hair and makeup, since they were probably zip up suits. The room we were in had a hair styling chair and a makeup counter, and plenty of people to work on both tributes at the same time, so all I got to do was watch as they styled them for the parade. After a while that got quite dull, so I flipped through the magazine Molly had given me and looked carelessly though the pictures. It was a fashion magazine, if you'd even call it fashion. I saw it more as mimicking animals and gluing random items to clothes. The people were absolutely insane in the capital, especially since they eat this crap up. I sighed and dropped the magazine on the floor, sometimes I fear for our society.  
"Sherlock come over here!" Mrs. Hudson said. I knew there wasn't anything I could be in trouble for, but her voice as stern probably just because she was in a hurry. According to her, we were off schedule once again.  
"What do you think about this shade of gold?" she asked, holding up a palate of eye shadow and pointing to one that looked very bright.  
"I don't know, it looks yellow." I shrugged. John laughed from the reclined chair.  
"Don't move your face." The stylist snapped, and he went back to an emotionless state.  
"She means would it look good? They have to be lights." Molly corrected.  
"I guess so. I'm not really a part of this operation." I pointed out.  
"We all agree then?" Sara, the head stylist, asked.  
"Yes I think so, thank you." Mrs. Hudson said, handing her back the pallet.  
"You're going to look so pretty." I said in a mocking voice.  
"Keep still!" the stylist demanded, glaring at me to stop encouraging him, so I just went back over to the chair and sat still again. I just got lost in boring thoughts, trying my best to ignore the talking and nauseating smells in the room. I got called over numerous times though, apparently they needed everyone's opinion before they made any decisions, so had to say yes to the lipstick, blush, even eye liner colors. I knew I had no real input, I didn't know the difference between any of them, so I decided whatever they all thought was best was probably best. John was slowly but surely turning into a makeup monster, I could barely see his skin after all the blush they added. But it really did look golden, as if his skin was glowing. Irene wasn't having her makeup done at the moment; they were doing her hair first. Right now it was being washed in some weird sink thing. Apparently it hurt her neck, because she was complaining loudly and whining a lot. John didn't need his hair done since it was so short; apparently they'd just spray some gold sparkly stuff in it and be done. When the hair and makeup were finally done they looked like mini suns, walking around and glowing with fake illusion light. The jumpsuits were already finished, and to my surprise when they came out they were black and shiny. Apparently they had to be turned on, and they glow like spotlights. The tributes were going to have some type of contact in their eyes to protect them from the bright light, but according to Sara the suits barely get heated at all. The magic of science apparently. I pretended to be interested in the magazine again when I sat back down in my chair, now they were forced to take their clothes off, leaving undergarments of course. Then they stepped into the jumpsuits, got them zipped up and stuff and walked around, testing the fabric and all. Apparently they had short life spans, so they couldn't test them now, but they knew they worked from numerous testing in the labs. As much as I hated fashion of all types, this was kind of interesting just to see how technical it got. When all of that was done it was almost five ten, so we all took a train to where the parade would be taking place. I took the opportunity to make fun of John for his outfit and makeup because he wasn't allowed to move very much or move his face. So when I called him the sun from the Teletubbies the most he could do was promise to chop my arms off when we got back. When we got there the place was already crawling with spectators, all excited to see the new tributes. I knew President Snow was somewhere around, and I wasn't all too excited to hear his Devil's voice again. That man was seriously twisted; this thing was all his wicked idea, because peace was totally a synonym for children slaughtering each other. We had reserved seats up front, like always. I had brought a little camera for head shots, but I knew there would be no need. Paparazzi would be swarming all entrances and exits. With one last goodbye and good luck to the two tributes, we went to our seats and waited for it to begin. After a while of listening them talk to each other, to me, and to the people around them, the Capital's anthem started playing and the entire stadium went silent. The first chariot arrived; they were decked out in sparkles and crap like every year. District one wins a lot just because they have the Careers, people who train their whole lives and see the Hunger Games as more of a business opportunity to be rich their whole lives. They nearly always volunteered, so I took a couple of pictures of them. Molly noticed my camera, saying how cute it was that I wanted to save this memory, but I couldn't tell her about the map we were making since she might use the information to her advantage. We may be the same district, but our tributes were still enemies. The chariots rolled on and on, it got quite boring after a while, but I kept myself occupied by taking the best pictures I could. I knew some of this wouldn't work since they had so much makeup on; some were barely recognizable as humans. At last everyone gasped, and I knew the Twelve Chariot had arrived. Suddenly it was like someone had driven in a gigantic spotlight, not only did the light come off of them, but all cameras focused on them, projecting on the big screens. They looked truly breathtaking, John was smiling and waving as if he was having so much fun, while Irene was blowing kissed and trying to catch as many roses as she could. I clapped along with everyone else, and John and I made eye contact when he finally found me in the stands. He smiled up at me and I gave him two thumbs up, which made him smile more. When all of the chariots were in place, the lights turned off to not distract people from Snow's boring speech, which I tuned out to. I knew how it went, so happy to see new people, hope they have a god game, and best of luck, whatever. He was lying about all of it, more like I can't wait to see you die sort of thing. We left a little bit before he was done, rude, I know, yet don't care, but we needed to be there when John and Irene were finished. We waited where the chariots went until we heard hoof clops, knowing they were coming in now.


	9. Chapter 9

Ours was last, but once they jumped off I gave John a bone breaking hug, telling him how fantastic it was and how everyone loved it. Molly attempted to give Irene a hug, but she pushed her away, counting the roses stuffed in both hands as if they actually meant something.  
"Did you get pictures?" John asked. I held up the camera with accomplishment.  
"Remember, this is our secrets. They're still the enemy." I added. He nodded as if he knew that already, but it's not bad to be too cautious.  
"So did everyone like the outfits?" John asked as we were riding the train back to the tribute center.  
"Of course they did, all the cameras were on you two." Mrs. Hudson said happily. John's smile widened.  
"That's never happened!" he pointed out.  
"It was brilliant." I agreed.  
"I'm famous!" Irene said, as if it was her life dream. I didn't see her as a good person to be famous; obviously it would go straight to her head.  
"Everyone there is Irene, the tributes are celebrities." Molly pointed out. I rolled my eyes at John, who laughed silently. I really hoped Irene didn't win, not that I wanted her to die or anything, but if she was a mentor District Twelve would be in ruins. We arrived back at the Tribute Center, where everyone was just arriving, so we had to share an elevator with the people of District Five, which meant, to my utter delight, Greg was there.  
"Hey Sherlock!" he said happily. The Five people were dressed as waves, and their fabric was hanging off in weird angles and shapes. I knew four was water district, but then I remembered the gigantic dam Five had somewhere, so that must be why they were water. A small boy, probably Jeff, as Greg had mentioned before, looked back and forth at all of the people. He couldn't be more than thirteen, which made me sad, because I knew he'd be gone in the first day.  
"Good job out there, you really stole the audience." He said, as if that was some type of joke.  
"John, this is, Greg, from District Five." I said, introducing the two in the very crowded elevator.  
"I've heard a lot about you." Greg said with a smile. John looked at me suspiciously, but before he could ask questions the elevator reach floor five, which was their stop. With some goodbyes, some real, and some relived, they were off.  
"You have a friend after all!" John pointed out.  
"Shut up, he's not my friend. He sat next to me in the lobby and started talking to me, it's not my fault." I pointed out.  
"You're the only one who would get defensive about someone thinking you have a friend." John decided.  
"I do have a friend, but it's not him." I defended.  
"Who's you're friend?" Molly asked with excitement, as if it was going to be her.  
"John." I said, as if that was obvious. My answer seemed to sink both Molly's and Mrs. Hudson's hearts, because they both knew that I probably couldn't say I had a friend in two weeks, after the games were over. We arrived at our floor, and I went to my room to look over the pictures and stuff while John went over to get into normal clothes. I had some good pictures of a couple of them, most were blurry, but I had a good one of John smiling and waving up to me. I decided to keep that one, even though his picture on the wall was going to be that troll face I found. There was a knock on my door, this time it was actually unlocked, so I just called for whoever it was to come in. At first I couldn't tell it was John, it looked like a mutant something. His makeup was running down his face in black streaks, the gold smashed up together and his lipstick somehow managed to get on his nose.  
"I can't get this bloody stuff off." he complained.  
"Well don't ask me!" I pointed out.  
"You've been through this before!" he defended.  
"Mrs. Hudson, ask her, she knows what to do." I insisted. John groaned, but rushed off to find her. He was back a couple of minutes later with a white bottle.  
"She gave me makeup remover, told me to put some on a towel and scrub it off." he said, coming right in and closing the door behind him.  
"So why didn't you do it there?" I asked.  
"Because I don't feel comfortable there, I feel like I'm trespassing." He defended.  
"Oh, so you just make yourself right at home then." I groaned as he walked into the bathroom and got a towel off of the rack they leave for the guests.  
"Oh come on, I thought we were friends." He joked. I groaned, but got to my feet, going into the bathroom to make sure he wasn't wrecking anything.  
"Why do you have three hair brushes?" he asked, and I just frowned at him.  
"Wait, stay right there." I said, and with that I ran to get the camera. I took his picture before he could protest; he simply looked too pathetic to pass up the opportunity. With a frown, he poured a whole lot of makeup remover on the towel, spreading it out and attacking his face with it. After a while of scrubbing he took the towel away. It was a shock that thing used to be white, because it now looked like a mini sun, completely golden and gross looking. John, on the other hand, looked semi normal now, he couldn't get some of the mascara or eyeliner off for some reason, but other than that he looked human.  
"Oh shame, now people can see your face." I sighed, as if it was a terrible curse. He just scowled, not knowing what to do with the towel, so he just left it on the counter for me to deal with.  
"Now you remind me of Irene." I pointed out.  
"I doubt it; you'll never see her without makeup on." John pointed out.  
"True, but you've got the right attitude."  
"I'm just tired." He sighed.  
"Well, we've got some work to do, we need to find Molly's laptop again and find all the pictures we can." I decided.  
"She'll have moved it by now." He pointed out.  
"So we either need to take it or ask for it, which would be easier?" I asked.  
"I could ask for it I guess." He shrugged. "Or you could, since she fancies you."  
"No, she'll never let me have it; the background would be too embarrassing." I pointed out.  
"What should I tell her?" he asked.  
"The truth. Say it's something you and I are doing to prepare, but you can't tell her because it's our thing." I shrugged. John nodded, and before I could add anything he was out the door. I took that opportunity to wash the washcloth out, getting as much of the gold out and just throwing it in the sink where it should be. I also brushed my hair, because it had gotten a little out of place in the wind. I made sure to hide the other two brushes, to avoid any further tormenting. Then I sat back on the bed and made a mental plan in my head for the wall, waiting for whatever was taking John so long. Finally he showed up, five minutes later, with the laptop safely under his arm.  
"She was using it when I wanted it, took a little bit." He said, but handed me the laptop. I opened the lid, as he had said it was already on, but the background had been changed to a picture of colorful bubbles, typical. It wasn't too difficult to find a picture of every one of the tributes, added to the ones I already had. I added them to the folder and told him to go to the printer; I would print them all out here. I also told him to steal as many sticky notes as possible. Once I was sure he was down there, I started printing them in order, adding John's troll in the middle so he didn't pay it much attention. It ended with Irene, smiling at the camera rather disturbingly. A little while after, he arrived with his hands full of items.  
"They had all of these cabinets, so I got tape, sticky notes, scissors, and string." He said, dumping all of the supplies on my bed.  
I got up, shutting and locking the door, just in case a wandering Irene came around and wanted to know what was going on. We cut out the pictures first, John had made sure to get me tiger print safety scissors, so it look more time than it probably should've. Once we got the headshots we taped them all in a big circle. Even I could reach the top, so John pushed a chair over for me to stand on, handing me the pictures to tape. When we were done, it looked pretty successful, although John was complaining about the troll. After that, we wrote the names down on the sticky notes, I had made sure to make a mental list when searching them. The names were absolutely absurd in the higher districts; the girl was literally named Diamond from One. We managed to get the names done before eleven o'clock, by now I was sure everyone would be asleep.  
"You go to bed; we've done all we can for now." I decided.  
"Good night Sherlock." He agreed, yawning widely and leaving the room.  
"Good night John." I muttered, even though he was long gone. I sighed, knowing I was going to face another battle tonight, the dreams would be awful. I jotted down the things I already know, that Irene was going to try to seduce the audience, that John was an idiot, and Jeff was expected not to make it long. I added the sticky notes to the faces, trying my best to pick out the possible careers. We'd know more tomorrow after John went to training. That reminded me that I'd be alone all day, which kind of bummed me out. It was different now, usually people being around me made me sad, but now when John wasn't here I was disappointed. I changed into my pajama pants and shoved the stuff under the bed, not like it would do much good. If anyone walked in here they'd know immediately what we were up to, I could only hope to keep them out. I noticed Molly's laptop still on the bed, and decided I should probably return it, just to guarantee its life span in case I have some more sleep attacks. I pulled on my robe and wandered down the dark hall, trying not to run into things and trying to remember where Molly's room was. In the end I just left it on a decorative table, knowing she couldn't miss it there, and was about to head back to my room when I heard what sounded like someone having a nightmare in the room closest. I debated on ignoring it and just walking on, when I noticed it obviously wasn't one of the girls, so it had to be John. I knew exactly what it felt like to be having nightmares, and when I was a tribute all I had wanted was someone to be there for me. I nervously cracked the door open, peeking in to make sure I wasn't wrong. Indeed, in the dim light, I saw that John was tossing and turning, asleep, obviously, his eyes were closed, and he was making sounds that sounded like he must be scared in the dream. I sighed, not knowing what to do. I knew some of these dreams could be dangerous from personal experience, but I was willing to take the risk. I doubted John had a knife under his pillow like I did anyway. I crept in, closing the door behind me and standing next to the bed. I didn't know what to do exactly, he was twitching a lot, so obviously that meant he had to be running.  
"John!" I whispered. "John, wake up." I added, deciding the best thing to do was just wake him up. I tapped his shoulder lightly and repeated his name. After a while he started to stir, and when his eyes opened he almost jumped out of the bed. When he realized I wasn't a tribute trying to kill him, he seemed to relax, closing his eyes again. His face was white and sweaty, like all nightmare symptoms I suppose.  
"Sherlock they're going to kill me!" he exclaimed in a whisper, still with his eyes shut.  
"It was nightmare, it's okay now." I assured.  
"No, they're going to kill me!" he said, louder this time. Maybe he wasn't fully awake yet, still thinking he was in the dream.  
"They won't kill you, I won't let them." I assured, taking the only logical route I knew, playing along.  
"Don't let them kill me Sherlock." John muttered.  
"I won't, I'm here." I assured. "It's okay John."  
"Don't leave me." he muttered.  
"I won't leave you, I'm here." I said again, not knowing what to do in this sort of protector situation.  
"Please… please don't let them kill me." John muttered, his head rolling over onto the pillow to face me. I pulled a chair over to the other side of the bed, knowing I couldn't leave him at a time like this. That was the thing with nightmares; you're always on your own. I suppose that's because it's everyone's logical fear to be alone, to have everyone against you.  
"It's okay, you'll be okay." now I sounded like Molly, she always talked like she was calming down a baby.  
"They're coming!" John exclaimed, curling his legs into his chest and reaching his arm out, as if grabbing a weapon. "Please protect me!" he begged, sounding close to tears. This was funny in a completely heartbreaking way, knowing that this dream probably won't be just a dream in a couple of days; the only difference is I won't be there to protect him.  
"It's okay, they won't hurt you." I assured. I looked at his hand, extended for something but I wasn't sure what. He wanted to know I was here, and that I'd protect him, he didn't want a weapon, he wanted me. I looked around; making sure no one else was hiding in the room, because the awkwardness level was rising in here. But, with a nervous breath, I took his hand and wrapped my fingers around his. His hand was extremely warm, the heat from terror I guess, but when I took his hand it seemed like he calmed down, he stopped moving and talking. After a little while of silence I think I heard a snore. Whatever I did, it had somehow helped him slept better, to escape the nightmare. I had wanted to escape my nightmares for years, and all it took for him was someone holding his hand. I didn't know what I should do now, I could sleep in the chair if I wanted to, but wonder if I attacked him in my sleep, or if he woke up and found me here, would he get freaked out? But then again, I didn't want him to go back to whatever night mare he was having, so I decided to just take my chances, reclining the chair as much as I could and finding it very easy to fall asleep. Maybe holding his hand was good for me too, because that was the first night, the first drugless night, that I got a good sleep in what felt like ages.


	10. Chapter 10

I woke up because I felt John's hand moving in mine, tearing me from whatever sleep I was having. It had been the best night of my life; I got a full eight hours or so. I opened my eyes with a sigh, and saw two hazel ones staring right back. John didn't look scared, but very, very confused.  
"What happened?" he mumbled, still sleepy, obviously.  
"You had a nightmare." I said simply, yawning. He pulled his hand away from mine, and I found that my fingers were very tight from being curled up all night. I flexed them the best I could, but it didn't help much. The room was still dark thanks to the thick curtains, they managed to block out all the light and the window blocked out the sound. We might as well be in the middle of nowhere.  
"How'd you know I was having a nightmare?" he asked. To my surprise, he didn't seem mad, as I thought he would be.  
"I was returning the laptop. Heard you tossing around in here, so I went to check on you. Then you told me people were coming after you, and to not leave you, and stuck your hand out. I decided that you wanted security, so I just held your hand and you fell right back to a peaceful sleep." I said, recalling the events as best as I could.  
"Did you have a nightmare too?" he asked.  
"For once, no." I said, it was a sad thing to be thrilled about, but I felt refreshed for once, a full night sleep was as rare as a diamond to me, although I bet I could buy a diamond if I really wanted one.  
"Thanks, I guess." John muttered. I closed my eyes again, not wanting to get up. Somehow I fell back asleep, and when I woke back up it was nine o'clock. Training for John was at ten, and the fear of getting yelled at once again by Mrs. Hudson was enough to scare me straight.  
"John, get up!" I hissed, bolting out of the chair and shaking his shoulders.  
"What, what?!" he exclaimed.  
"We need to get out there, training starts in an hour!" I exclaimed. John groaned, covering his face with his pillow.  
"Come _on_ John, you don't want Mrs. Hudson to get mad." I pointed out. That seemed to be enough to convince him, and he rolled out of the bed, falling onto his feet and stretching.  
"They're probably waiting for us, oh god." I groaned, blinking away the sleep and opening the door. We walked out the door, John yawning and I was still trying to crack my fingers back to normal. As I predicted, they were at the table, but they weren't waiting. Even Molly was eating already, as if they had simply forgotten about us. When they heard us coming they all stopped eating to look, even Irene, with a weird sort of smile on her face.  
"Good morning." John groaned.  
"Sherlock, please tie your robe." Mrs. Hudson insisted as I was about to sit down. I realized with fear that it was untied, and my chest was completely exposed. Mortified, I tied it tight and sat in one of the chairs next to John. No one spoke, but I could almost hear them thinking. I was too tired to care, taking a whole pancake this time and buttering it. This was the biggest breakfast I've had in over a year. John simply ate eggs and toast, both of us seemingly half asleep.  
"Nice night?" Irene asked with a laugh. Molly glowed red and looked down at her plate. I just yawned and John nodded. I didn't see what the big problem was; the only thing on my mind was sleep. It was ironic; I finally get a good night sleep and now I couldn't seem to get enough. No one talked for the rest of the meal, and Irene kept giggling throughout the whole thing, but I didn't even care at the moment. When breakfast was over I grabbed a handful of bacon and went back to my room, taking a quick shower that certainly woke me up plenty. I got dressed and used the mega-dryer to dry my hair, coming out feeling much more awake than I was this morning. The metal charm was cool against my chest, but it felt good to know it was there. Mrs. Hudson and Molly were talking about something in a hushed whisper, but when they noticed I was there they immediately stopped talking, as if keeping something from me. I guessed it was only mentor stuff, as our map was.  
"I returned the laptop, I don't know if you found it." I pointed out to Molly, taking an armchair and putting my fingertips under my chin.  
"Yes, I got it." she nodded. They glanced at each other, both looking nervous, and I was wondering, yet again, what I did wrong this time.  
"Um, Sherlock, while you're here, we think there's something we should talk to you about." Mrs. Hudson decided.  
"If it's about that stupid coffee thing, then I'm sorry, I messed up, just let it go okay?" I groaned.  
"Sherlock, we're not telling you what to do and what not to do, I think it's great for you to finally find someone, but, we think it's maybe not in everyone's best interests." Mrs. Hudson decided. I just raised an eyebrow, not liking where this was going, but quite confused.  
"What's not in everyone's best interest?" I asked with boredom. I always regret sitting out here, where they can start rubbish conversations.  
"Your relationship with John." Mrs. Hudson said, as if it pained her to say it. I felt my eyes widen and immediately my face went completely red.  
"I'm not in a relationship with John!" I defended. Suddenly their nervous concern turned into confusion, just like mine. "It's about last night isn't it? How could I be so stupid, I mean I understand all of your obliviousness, but no, absolutely not. I was taking your laptop back, and I heard John having a nightmare, so I stayed with him. I know how it feels like to have nightmares, and I guess I knew he needed someone there." I said simply. The relief on Molly's face was almost insulting, but Mrs. Hudson looked extremely awkward.  
"Well then, we had it completely messed up then, my apologies Sherlock." She decided.  
"Yes, you did." I agreed with a sarcastic smile. With that, I decided it was probably best to leave this little situation, and went back to my room. That was why Irene was laughing so hard during breakfast, because they all thought… Oh god I hope John doesn't find out about this. I sat on the bed, locking the door and staring at the wall of tributes. I sighed, completely embarrassed now, how could they even think I'd ever even think about that? It was one thing to be friends with my tribute, but that was just unthinkable. If he was another mentor then maybe, just maybe I'd be a tad bit interested, but dating was the last concern of mine. I just needed to get him out of this whole thing in one piece, that was the only job I was given, and so far I thought I was doing an okay job. John and Irene were taken to the tribute center by Mrs. Hudson, and we had the day to ourselves. I spent this time in the office john had told me about, looking up the richest sponsors I could find. Apparently I wasn't the only mentor who was unaware of this handy little place, because in the three and a half hours I was in there no one bothered me. I managed to print out a whole bunch of pictures, scribbling down their names and where they were most likely to be. Most of them preferred, from their last couple of tributes, the Careers, someone they had total faith in to get their money, but a couple of them obviously liked the underdog. In my games I didn't have sponsors, but I guess in the end I didn't need them. I suffered, I was extremely dehydrated, starving, and had severe burns all down my leg, but somehow I managed to outthink and outlive the other tributes. I sighed, cutting the faces out and going back to my room, locking the door behind me. On the other wall I took down a fancy decoration of metal swirls and lines and stuff, taping up my sponsors in a line. Most of them invested thousands into the tributes, which was absolutely pathetic, they could be funding against this death game, building revolutions to one day overthrow, and instead they just encouraged it. I had no idea how to convince these people to sponsor him, sure, he had a chance to get through, he was strong and something of a brain in his head, but I'd need a lot more than that. I guess I'll find out after evaluations and training to see just how good he was. I spent the remainder of the day cooped in my bedroom, reading, sketching, and just sitting there staring at the tribute wall, the mentor wall, or just the ceiling. I was actually an okay artist, but usually I had nothing to draw. Today I drew John, getting crowned victor, which the same determined look on his face as I had with that crown on his head. I sighed, looking at the drawing and hoping beyond hope that he might make it through this. When they finally came back I practically dragged John into my room before he forgot everything, making him write down as much stuff as he could under all of the faces. We needed the chair to reach the people up top, but eventually we were already a couple of sticky notes deep in information.  
"Fantastic job John, good memory too." I said happily, reading off the Three girl Ruby Mendel. According to John, she was good at the nature things, like berries, fires, and rope traps, but wasn't very good at swords and didn't take many weapons courses. Now this is only the first day out of three, after that is evaluations and then interviews. And after that, they go in.  
"Now, we have one particularly ugly troll to evaluate too." I said, pointing under the cartoon at the sticky note that read John Watson. John just frowned at me.  
"There had to be a better picture." He hissed.  
"First one that came up." I shrugged. He just hit me lightly on the arm and sighed, thinking about the day.  
"I went to the fire starting thing, which I found I was okay at, I was pretty good with the swords, although a little bit clumsy. The bow and arrow is pathetic, and I took a class on edible roots and how to find water." He recalled. As he wrote all of this down I put it on a sticky note, pressing it to the wall under his name.  
"Looks like a map. Any allies yet?" I asked.  
"Both one and twos, the boy from three, and the girl from five all seem to have made a little pack." He said, holding up a red colored string. "This one will be the careers string." He decided, tossing me the roll. I nodded, having him hold the end while I webbed out everyone he had mentioned.  
"They might pick up one or two, but they would've picked the best they found." I decided, matching the faces up.  
"That makes me feel better then." John muttered.  
"Oh stop being such a baby, they never pick Twelves, it just doesn't happen. And when you run them through with a sword, I'll be laughing." I assured, chucking the roll of string as hard as I could. It bounced off of his head harmlessly, but that seemed to bring his mood down more.  
"And who are these people?" he asked, turning to the sponsor wall.  
"No one you need to worry about. They're the top sponsors from past years, hopefully I can do some business with them." I said with a confident smile.  
"I'd imagine you're very persuasive." John guessed. "I mean, all of those people skills."  
"Oh stop, all of those people skills are what your life depends on." I pointed out.  
"And how do I know you're not going to be sitting in here crying all day and night?" he asked.  
"I'd be out there trying to help you, not mourning you when you're not dead."  
"And what if I die in the blood bath." He asked. All humor disappeared from the air and I just looked at him, feeling my eyes get heavy with the very thought.  
"No, you can't think like that." I muttered, turning away from him to look back at the wall. John didn't say anything after that, seeing he's struck a nerve.  
"I suppose I should tell you something though." I decided, turning back towards him.  
"What?" John asked, obviously worried.  
"Mrs. Hudson and Molly talked to me today."  
"And…" John asked.  
"They were under the impression we were in a relationship." I said quickly, getting the words out before I could stop myself. Instead of freaking out, like I thought he would, John just laughed.  
"Well they need glasses then." He decided. I decided not to point out that Mrs. Hudson wears contacts.  
"The bad news is, that Irene doesn't know the truth, and I'm willing to bet that she'll be all giggles when we're together."  
"That's her fault. Everyone else knows the truth, why should we care?" he asked. I cracked a nervous smile; he was taking this way better than I had.  
"We've only got a couple of days together, so I really don't care what any of them think." He shrugged.  
"Well I've got a lifetime, so try not to embarrass me too much." I pointed out. He went back to looking at the wall.  
"You don't think I should ally with Irene do you?" he asked.  
"No way. First time you aren't of use she'll strike you down. All she wants is fame, and unless you want to use her method of winning I suggest you stay away." I suggested. He shuddered at the very thought.  
"Ya, maybe not. I don't think I want to hear her talk all day either. She'll give us away because her nail chipped." John laughed.  
"So will you. I'll have to make a sponsor send you a manicure set."  
"Oh you should not be talking! What type of man owns three hair brushes?" he pointed out.  
"One that cares about his hair." I hissed.  
"I bet Irene only has two!" he insisted.  
"Ya, two for every strand." I defended. John could help but laugh at that, his fake argument breaking immediately.  
"Can't argue with that." he laughed.  
"Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Hudson called through the flat. Those are two words that can magnetically pull everyone here to the table, or substitute breakfast or lunch. I sat next to John, as usual, and Irene giggled more. I just sighed, glancing at John, who didn't look too happy either. Mrs. Hudson said the prayer and then we were able to get whatever food we wanted, I actually ate some turkey with gravy, and John filled his plate with pasta.  
"It's awfully lonely around here without you two." Molly said as a conversation starter.  
"Well I assure you, I'd rather be here." John insisted.  
"Is it at least helpful?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"Oh ya, at least I'll have some survival skills." He shrugged. I nodded my approval, before the training I was more hopeless than everyone there, but it had taught me many helpful things that I ended up using. I knew all of the careers went straight for the weapons and stuff, so it's always good to learn to survive before you learn to kill.  
"Sherlock, what did you chose when you were there?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"I believe that is between me and Mr. Watson." I said, glancing at Irene.  
"Fair enough." She muttered, giving up on the topic.  
"Find out who the careers are though." Irene said. I looked up in surprise; those were the first sort of positive things I've heard her say in the entire time I've known her.  
"Well those are usually default." Molly shrugged.  
"I want to join them." Irene decided. Molly's eyes widened, that has never been done before, with any Twelve tribute.  
"Well, I certainly can't tell you not to, but it will be difficult." Molly decided.  
"I think I can do it, it really shouldn't be all that hard." She shrugged. I had to admit her confidence was above the skies, which was a good and bad thing at the same time.  
"Well the careers go after the others, but when it comes time to choose a winner your allies will turn against you." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"Not if I turn on them first." Irene planned. John kept his mouth shut; he knew that in this plan, he wasn't expected to be alive. I didn't want to speak up, Molly was her mentor, and I shouldn't be interfering with this grand plan of hers. I greatly advise against Careers, let them forget you even existed and kill themselves off; it would be a lot simpler. I just sighed, looking down at my plate but not hungry anymore. I had killed the last career, the one in my dreams, the one I stab in the skull, that had been him. I didn't like to think about, I didn't want to; it only brought bad thoughts and memories. I always did my best to lock them down, but they're always patient, they'll wait for a gap in the door and haunt me. The dinner was switched out with desert, but I didn't eat any. At the first possible moment I could, I excused myself and went to my room, closing and locking the door. I had no plans to open it, not even for John.


	11. Chapter 11

I was fighting back the thoughts, the door was barely holding now, the hinges struggling. I searched desperately for the shoes, somewhere, somewhere. I threw the office supplies into the wall in desperation, falling off the bed and diving underneath into the dark unknown. It was there, I found it. I squeezed back into the light before the first memory burst out. The fire, burning down the trees, the birds, the grass around my feet. I plunged the needle into my arm as the fire was racing up my leg, and it stopped. The memory stopped, my fears stopped, all was well. I sighed in relief as a nice veil of peacefulness settled over me; the thought went back in the door, which was resealing itself, all fine and dandy. I leaned against the bed, burying my face into the mattress with a soft sigh. It was alright now. There was a knock on the door, and I quickly came to my senses, knowing it must be John. I stuffed everything back into the shoe hastily and shoved it back under the bed.  
"Hey Sherlock, let me in!" he called.  
"Sorry, busy…" I muttered loudly. My words were slurred and my vision was fuzzy, but my brain was relaxed, and that was all that mattered.  
"Are you okay in there?" John called.  
"I'm fines!" I insisted. There was a monetary pause, at which John decided what to do.  
"Sherlock you don't sound like yourself." He pointed out.  
"Go away, I'm thinking!" I yelled, louder than I meant to. I heard his retreating footsteps, but that was all. I pulled myself onto the bed and collapsed, burying my head in the pillow. I hoped that would keep John away for now. Thankfully he didn't bother me for another hour, which was the estimated time frame that I got back to being normal. My mind raced again, but the door held this time. I walked into the bathroom, cleaning my face with cold water and running a brush through my hair hastily. I then proceeded to unlock the door and walk into the living room, where John and Mrs. Hudson were talking. He looked preoccupied though, worried even, and when I came out he seemed extremely relieved.  
"Hey Sherlock, you okay?" he asked nervously.  
"I'm fine, sorry for yelling at you." I muttered, sitting in an empty armchair.  
"It's fine, I would've done the same, sorry for bothering you." He muttered, as if Mrs. Hudson had made him prepare those lines. I sighed, wanting more, I had started to build up a bit of a tolerance, it didn't have as long of an effect as it had before. I would need more soon.  
"Are you okay though? I was worried about you." John said truthfully.  
"I'm fine, a little bit unstable though, being back here and all." I admitted.  
"Well, I'm sure we all are." Mrs. Hudson assured. I was talking more to John, but I smiled in agreement. Mrs. Hudson was the only person in our little party that wasn't and was never going to be in the games herself, so she's the only one that didn't understand the horror and terror the entire atmosphere creates.  
"Well, I need to look at the map, if you don't mind." John said in a particularly low voice, as if trying to hide his voice from Mrs. Hudson. That's another thing you wouldn't expect from her, she has ears like a hawk for gossip. If she thinks you're saying something secret, forget even trying to hide it from her and get away with it.  
"What map dears?" she asked.  
"Sorry, mentor business." I shrugged, as if it were some type of top secret project. I knew I could probably trust her with the information, but I didn't want her wanting to know every little detail and to see it and all in all it would be more trouble than it's worth. She just nodded, as if she understood why it's secret and let the two of us migrate back to my room and close the door.  
"I've remembered a little something about the guy from eleven." He said, scribbling a little note down on the sticky note. When he was done, he looked around at the destroyed room.  
"It's a mess in here, what happened?" he asked with surprise.  
"I told you, I got a little bit freaked." I sighed.  
"About what?" he asked.  
"I locked up the memories, I'm sorry, I can't talk about it." I said simply.  
"Locked them up?" he asked curiously.  
"I put them behind a mental door, so I can't just think about them. It's difficult, but if I start talking or thinking, the door cracks and this happens." I said, gesturing around the room.  
"Oh." John muttered, obviously not liking my answer.  
"Are you okay though? Are you going to have nightmares?" he asked.  
"Are you?" I added.  
"I don't know, I can't really help it if I do." John decided.  
"Last night was the first night I haven't had a nightmare since the games." I admitted.  
"I guess you just needed a big strong man to protect you." John laughed, standing up taller and trying to puff out his chest.  
"Well, when one of those comes around tell me." I laughed, and John just laughed. "What were you dreaming about anyway?" I asked.  
"Oh, I was in some type of cave, and the tributes were all swarmed around it, common nightmare really."  
"You know if you die in your dream they say you die in real life." I pointed out.  
"But then you showed up, and they all ran away." John shrugged, ignoring my comment. I smiled; it was nice to think that he actually dreamed about me.  
"I was just too scary, obviously." I laughed.  
"It was probably the smell." John shrugged. I just rolled my eyes and sat down on the bed with a sigh.  
"That won't happen you know? They won't all team up against you. Maybe the careers, but not everyone. That's why you need allies." I pointed out.  
"Who would want to be an ally with me?" John asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.  
"Well, I know that Jeff kid probably doesn't have one yet." I guessed.  
"Wasn't the point of an ally someone who could keep both of you safe?" John pointed out.  
"True. Anyone else that you might think of?" I asked.  
"No one comes to mind." John shrugged, looking around the map. "But then again, Allies don't seem to be such a good idea, I know that you work together and all, but in the end one of you has to die."  
"They have advantages, but you just can't get attached, because sooner or later you'll have to be the one to kill them." I said simply. That was also the analogy for us here, I couldn't get attached, but no matter how many times I tell myself that, I just fall deeper and deeper into this pit.  
"On that positive note, I think I should probably get ready for bed." he decided, looking at the clock. It was only nine, but I guess he should be getting as much sleep as he could. I nodded, half of me wanting him to stay here, the other half hoping I could come with him. I wanted sleep, it had been such a great thing to actually get some for once, and it wasn't even drug induced, it was simply his presence.  
"Good night, I guess." I agreed as he made his way to the door.  
"And Sherlock, if you, you know, need someone, or you have a nightmare, my door's unlocked." He said, the words I was looking for.  
"Be careful what you offer, I'll remember that." I said with relief.  
"Hey, I'll probably need someone too." he pointed out, and with that he slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. I changed quickly into my pajamas and collapsed into bed, turning out the light with a little remote and stuffing my head into the pillows, trying to force myself to fall asleep. , I'll remember that." I said with relief.  
"Hey, I'll probably need someone too." he pointed out, and with that he slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. I changed quickly into my pajamas and collapsed into bed, turning out the light with a little remote and stuffing my head into the pillows, trying to force myself to fall asleep. But I lay awake; I couldn't help think what time would be appropriate to go over there without looking like a complete creep. I kept my mind off anything to do with the games, with Irene, or anything coming up in the next couple of days. At twelve thirty I decided maybe it would be an okay time to go over, maybe he'd be asleep. I rolled out of bed and crept into the hallway, looking around to make sure no one was awake to get the wrong message. I knew there would be suspicion, especially from Irene, who still had no idea about what was actually going on here. But it was dark and silent, and apparently I was the only one awake. As I walked I felt the charm bounce off my chest, and I realized I still had it on. I never slept with it on, just in case I actually choke myself of something. It was an odd paranoid, but those come as a free bonus with the games. I opened the door to his room cautiously, seeing his figure lying still in the bed in the sliver of moonlight coming in from out here. I closed it silently and was happy to see the chair was still there, fully reclined, but this time it had a blanket draped over top of it. As quietly as I could, I curled into a little ball on the leather seat, pulling the blanket over top of me and trying to close my eyes and fall asleep.  
"Nightmare?" John asked in a sleepy mutter, making me jump a little bit, but I nodded. It was complete lie, but I was here because I wanted to avoid an actual nightmare, so it was kind of the same thing, maybe.  
"You're such a baby." He said with a laugh, but I just smiled. To my surprise and secret delight, he extended his hand to me, which I gladly took. This time he interlocked our fingers, which made my lungs seem to shrink. I did my best to try to look like it wasn't affecting me, that I wasn't blushing like a tomato and I wasn't breathing heavily. But apparently I didn't need to, because John's eyes closed and before in knew it he was snoring peacefully. I smiled to myself, but I closed my eyes as well, finding that sleep came a lot easier now that I had John next to me.

When I woke up I noticed that the bed next to me was empty, just a ball of sheets resembled that anyone was ever there. My hand was lying on the bed still, but it was empty. I heard the sound of a shower going behind the closed door, and knew that must be where he must be. I just pulled the blanket above my chin and tried to fall back asleep, but I ended up just lying there with my eyes closed. After a while the door opened, and John stepped out of the steamy room dressed in the training room outfit, tight black clothes with red stripes on them. He had a golden number Twelve in the corner, and he was drying his hair off the best he could with a white towel.  
"Good morning." He said with a smile, throwing the towel back into the bathroom and shutting off the light.  
"You could've woken me up." I pointed out, sitting up with a yawn.  
"You were fast asleep, snoring like a little kitten too." he added.  
"A kitten snores?" I asked.  
"Really tiny and high pitched, ya." John agreed. I frowned at the connection; I didn't want to be compared to a kitten. I got to my feet, folding the blanket up and tying my robe together. I looked at the clock, eight thirty only.  
"When do you have to be at training?" I asked.  
"Ten. Now we don't have to rush." He pointed out.  
"Hey, that wasn't my fault last time!" I defended.  
"Sure." He hissed, walking out the door. I groaned, shuffling over to my room again to get dressed and decent for the day ahead. I didn't have to do much, but I decided I wanted to find out what the terrain in the arena might be like so I can give John the stations he might need. It would take a lot of numbers and calculations, but I had a brain and a whole lot of time, so I think it might be possible. I walked back out of the room, again in the purple shirt because apparently someone had washed it for me. The Avoxes must have been here yesterday. I wasn't a big fan of people rooting around my room, it was kind of private, and god forbid they find the shoe. I decided they can't talk, so the most they can do is point to it and make angry facial expressions or something. I walked back to the living room, where Molly was sitting on her laptop and John was flipping through channels on the TV.  
"Good morning Sherlock." She said with a smile. I just groaned, collapsing on the couch next to John and sticking my feet on the coffee table. Molly gave me a glance of annoyance, but I ignored it. The TV channels were pathetic, they were either talking about the upcoming games, sitcoms, or cartoons. After a while John just turned the thing off, there was never anything on at this time.  
"It's good to see you aren't late, like last time." Molly decided, closing the laptop with a smile. I knew she was suspicious again, but even if she believed we were in a relationship that was her problem. It was Mrs. Hudson I would be worried about; she'd go around telling everyone who would listen that the seemingly heartless Sherlock Holmes had fallen for a poor tribute. That would definitely make the news.  
"Why are you up so early?" John asked her.  
"I didn't sleep well." She shrugged.  
"Well, I'm sure Irene is open for counseling." I laughed.  
"Sherlock!" John hissed, and I shut up. I thought it was funny thought to imagine Irene and Molly holding hands to fall asleep, Irene's fake fingernails would scratch all the skin off of her hand probably.  
"It's amazing that in only four or so days you can make him shut up and in two years he doesn't even say good morning to me." Molly pointed out. I knew it was supposed to be a joke, but she sounded legitimately sorry for herself.  
"Good morning Molly." I muttered, as if to show that I could actually say good morning without blowing myself up. John looked kind of awkward, like he didn't know what to say to that, so he just kept his mouth shut.  
"I don't shut up just because he tells me to." I pointed out defensively.  
"Well, when I politely tell you to be quiet it seems like you complain even louder." Molly insisted. John just laughed quietly at that.  
"He complains plenty to me too, don't worry Molly." John assured.  
"Well, I'm happy to hear that. At least he hasn't completely gone peaceful." Molly laughed.  
"That's not possible." John agreed.  
"Is it beat up on Sherlock day or what?" I defended.  
"Every other day yes." John agreed. I just playfully hit his arm, pretending to be mad at him, but finding his smile able to clear up any bad feeling at the moment.  
"I think it's great that you found a friend Sherlock." Molly assured, as if I needed her permission. I just rolled my eyes and ignored that comment. Mrs. Hudson arrived a little bit later, dressed and ready for the day ahead.  
"Good morning lovelies!" she said happily. I just frowned; I didn't like being called a 'lovely' and a kitten in the same day. I think everyone forgets that I murdered people. I shuddered at that casual thought, no, I didn't murder, I defended myself. I was not a murderer, I was a victim.  
"Good morning Mrs. Hudson." Molly and John both replied. I just grunted my good morning, because it wasn't that great of a morning, it was just another regular morning. I only had three more mornings with John anyway, so I'm thinking it's not so great of a day.  
"Should we get Irene up, breakfast should be ready soon." Mrs. Hudson suggested.  
"I'm not in the mood to be yelled at by Irene, but since Molly is her mentor I'm sure she'll be glad to." I decided with a small smile.  
"We don't have to wait for her, I'm sure she'll get up soon. Besides, we didn't wake those two up yesterday." Molly pointed out. She was obviously thinking along the same lines as I had been, both of us had a little bit of a fear for Irene, she was pretty nasty. As if on cue, a whole bunch of Avoxes came from seemingly nowhere, carrying platters of breakfast food to our table and setting the table up all fancy.  
"Well, I guess when time starts to crunch we should get her up, but for now I guess she can sleep." Mrs. Hudson agreed, but I think the food changed her mind. All of us were hungry, and obviously we weren't in the mood to be yelled at while we eat.


	12. Chapter 12

We all took chairs and said a quick prayer, loading food onto our plates. Today I was more in a bacon mood again, so I took a couple of strips and was quite satisfied with just that. I hoped this meal didn't end like the last one.  
"Any allies yet?" Molly asked John, who glanced at me for permission. I shrugged; I guess it wasn't that big of a problem to tell her.  
"Not really no." he muttered.  
"Well, you know Irene's plan. She didn't really tell me any of that, but I'm only here to help, and if she doesn't want my help, then that's her choice." Molly shrugged.  
"Look at you being all rebellious!" I exclaimed with a laugh. Molly just blushed and went back to her waffles.  
"If I recall, you didn't want my help either." Molly pointed out.  
"And I guess I didn't need it either. We're on different intellectual levels, so I don't think you would've been much help." I shrugged, eating my bacon innocently, not noticing John glaring at me. I didn't see anything wrong with that, it was the truth after all. Irene woke up at nine something, stumbling out of her room and yelling before she could even see us. Apparently it was our fault that she wasn't woken, and now she only had an hour to do her hair and makeup. When Molly offered help, Irene looked about ready to throw a decorative vase, so we all took that as an opportunity to be quiet. I sighed, it was too early in the morning to want to bash someone's head in. I really wanted to tell Irene to shut up and be happy for everything we were doing for her, because any group of people in their right minds would just throw her onto the streets. If it were just John and I then maybe we'd get away with that, but Mrs. Hudson and Molly were too nice. Sometimes I suspected they would be okay with it though, when Irene was really making us cringe. She ate as much as she could as fast as she could, and I thought it was somewhat impressive that she could eat three pancakes in the time it took me to eat a piece of bacon. Then she disappeared back to her room, stomping her feet loudly and slamming the door.  
"Short but not so sweet." I decided.  
"She should really respect you two more." John agreed.  
"Once again, I won't do anything she doesn't want." Molly pointed out.  
"Yes, because that means you have to spend time with her." I agreed. Molly didn't answer, I guess she was too pure to answer that, but we all knew the answer was yes. When breakfast was over John went back into his room to freshen up more, and I went into my room to wait for when he left or if he wanted to talk. To my happiness there was a knock on the door, so I called for him to come in. John opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him again. He went over to the map and looked at the names and faces again.  
"Today I'm going to try to figure out what the arena will be like, narrow down the past terrains and try to see what hasn't been used in a while. That would help you get an idea about what to prepare for." I said simply. John just nodded. I could tell that he was nervous, but about what exactly I didn't know. I didn't know whether or not to ask him about it, it might be personal, it might be about the games, or he simply didn't want to talk about whatever was on his mind.  
"Are you okay?" I asked. John sighed, turning back around.  
"Ya, just, nervous I guess." He shrugged.  
"You'll be fine, don't worry." I assured. He went and sat down next to me, still studying the wall. I imagine he memorized the whole thing by now, and I was pretty sure there were only so many times you can stare at something. Maybe it was just a nervous habit, or he wanted to make sure he didn't forget. Maybe he just wanted to be with me.  
"They are all so much bigger than me, the boy from One decapitated a dummy with one blow of a sword while I can barely chop off a finger." He sighed.  
"When the time comes to defend yourself, adrenalin will take over. You'll be a lot stronger than you ever thought you could be, and a lot quicker too. I never thought I could do half the stuff I was able to do, but the spotlight just motivates me I guess." I shrugged.  
"I can tell you don't like to talk about the games though, do you?" John asked.  
"No, not at all." I said truthfully.  
"Fair enough. I don't even want to think about them. Maybe a nice swig of that laughing gas they gave Irene would help." He laughed, as if that was actually a joke and not something I was seriously considering. I just smiled nervously and nodded.  
"You'll be fine John; really, I have full confidence in you." I assured.  
"Well, I hope I don't disappoint you." He decided.  
"I really hope you don't either." I agreed. He looked just like I had, the outfit, the nervous smile, covering up emotions, we were a lot alike. I knew it was impossible to just be nervous. I knew he was terrified, I knew Irene was terrified, heck, I was terrified. But we all covered them up in different ways, I hid, he laughed, and Irene just yells. I sighed, feeling like I should give him a hug or just hold his hand or do something to calm him down, but the moment was ruined when Molly knocked on the door and called for John to come to training.  
"Okay, do your best, I'll see you in a little bit." I said, patting his shoulder encouragingly.  
"See you." He agreed a little bit nervously, getting up and walking out the door. I sighed, I didn't like to see him sad, he was, for now, one of the things that was actually keeping me happy. I heard the elevator ding, and I knew they were gone. I decided to go down to the office, so I pulled on the black jacket and got to my feet, ruffling my hair before opening the door to go down. I ran into Molly half way through the hall.  
"Oh, Sherlock, do you think we could talk?" she asked, as if she was coming down just for that purpose.  
"No, I'm not in a relationship with him." I said simply, and tried to move past her to get down stairs.  
"Not about that, really, but could we just talk?" she asked, stepping to the side to get in my way.  
"Fine! What do you want?" I asked with a defeated sigh.  
"Privately, if you don't mind?" she asked. I raised an eyebrow, but followed her down the hall to her room. When she opened the door I was smacked with the smell of perfume, and it was so organized it kind of gave me an urge to mess stuff up. I wasn't used to the rooms being this light; the curtains were open, unlike mine or John's. I sat in one of the chairs, not unlike the one I had been sleeping in at John's, and she sat on the neatly made bed.  
"So, what's so important?" I asked.  
"Sherlock, I'm worried about you." She said simply.  
"Why? I'm sleeping, I'm eating, I think I'm better than I've ever been." I pointed out.  
"But you're only like that because of John, and I don't think you'll be able to live with yourself when he's in the arena. I don't want to sound like a pessimist, but I don't think he has that great of a chance of getting out. I don't want you to break." She said, as if that had been bugging her for a while. I sighed, looking at her with some surprise.  
"I have to hope that he'll make it out." I said confidently. "But he's my friend, he's making this whole thing a lot easier for me, and I'll do anything I can to help him." Molly just dipped her head down, as if she wanted to say something more, but didn't know how to.  
"I've seen the way you look at him Sherlock." She muttered.  
"We are not in a relationship!" I defended.  
"I know you're not, but maybe you can't pick up on it, but you're in love Sherlock, I can tell even if you can't." she pointed out. I sat there; I didn't know what to think.  
"I'm not in love with him, Molly, we are friends, and that's it!" I defended.  
"Please, I don't want you to get hurt." She begged.  
"This is all a cover story isn't it?" I asked, getting to my feet.  
"What?" she asked, looking surprised.  
"I _know_ that you fancy me, it's painfully obvious, and we stole your laptop to do some research before you changed your background. You only want me to spend less time with him so that you can have me all to yourself!" I hissed, using that as my defense.  
"What!? No, I don't fancy you, you were my first victor! I was proud of that!" she defended, also getting to my feet.  
"I do not love anyone; I don't love, so stop pestering me!" I demanded, and with that I stormed out of the room, slamming the door rather hard. I was so bitter now, she had just took my relatively good day and now I was mad. How dare she accuse me of that, I was Sherlock Holmes, I was so far above love, I never would stoop to that level. It only made sense, she was making excuses, she was jealous. I jammed my thumb into the ground floor button on the elevator, watching the doors close and the city come closer and closer. I didn't love John, no way, he was my tribute, I was supposed to be the person he looked up to. Maybe he was affecting my good mood too, sure I'd be crushed if he died, but I wouldn't _brake_. Sure, John was a nice person, and reasonably attractive, but I didn't care about that, we were close, but not boyfriends. I stepped into the lobby, which was actually quite busy with mentors and escorts using their free time to socialize. I saw the group of giggly girls that Molly hung out with, who all smiled and waved. I just scowled and averted my eyes, hoping they wouldn't attract the attention of Greg, who was probably hiding, waiting to trap me and talk to me. Thankfully I made it through the lobby without having to say a word, slipping into the empty office and taking up a computer. It took me a little while; I had to search the last twenty or thirty games, tracking only the terrain and that was all. I wrote them all down on a big piece of paper, and then tallied how many times I found a repeat. I knew Snow wouldn't want to use one again that had been repeated so many times, so that definitely crossed out the jungle that I had been in last year, and also crossed out the most frequent woods scene. The desert also had eleven in the last thirty, the second most frequent, so I was able to cross that out. I narrowed it down to three possibilities, rocky shores, volcanic, and polar. I didn't like the idea of volcanic or polar for him, but I think they wouldn't make the whole thing freezing. I didn't watch the games, I was very much against encouraging it, but I knew that if it was polar most of the tributes would just freeze to death, and that wasn't very fun to watch. Volcanic would certainly be more exciting, but for John's sake I didn't want anything to do with it. Rocky shores sounded okay, I knew there would be flaws, definitely drowning, wild animals, maybe even quick sand. The terrain was always another challenge for the tributes, the game makers always loved to add nasty things just to spice things up a bit. I printed out pictures of the three and wrote lists about the things he will need to learn for each one. For rocky shores he'll need to learn to swim, maybe to fish, and to jump around easily. For polar he'll need to know how to stay warm, build fires and conserve body heat, he'll need to be able to travel fast in the snow and to find food. For the volcanic I couldn't think of much, obviously to find water, that would be priority, I doubted he'll need a fire if it gets really hot, and to find food. I also added things he could use against other tributes, like disorienting them with waves, throwing rocks, starting avalanches, creating explosions, or suffocation in the snow or throwing people into lava. John. Stupid Molly, now she just made things awkward. She couldn't be more wrong though, I wasn't in love, I couldn't be in love, and it was all just pathetic. Jealousy made people do weird things apparently. As much as Molly claimed she didn't fancy me, I knew she did, I had known since I was a tribute, I was able to pick up on things. The way she treated me, the way she blushed when I looked at her, the way she always tried to make things perfect for me, it was obvious. She claims you can't be attached to tributes when she was guilty of it herself. She said that there was something in the way I looked at him. I didn't know what that meant exactly, I looked at John the same way I looked at everyone else, with my eyes. I don't exactly know how one look could tell someone that you were in love; maybe Molly just saw that in everyone. I sighed, clearing search history so that no one copied what I did, grabbing my papers, and walking back up to my room, making sure the flat was clear of Molly before I actually walked in. I taped the papers up next to the mentors in whatever space I could find. We were, somehow, starting to run out of tape. But I actually felt prepared, like I was doing something to help him win even though all I could do was train. I was like a coach, practice, practice, practice, but when game day came all I could do was sit quietly on the sidelines. I looked at the picture of the troll, his name scribbled in my neat hand writing underneath. She really had spoiled a lot, now when I was with him I would be scared to do something that might encourage her. And wonder if John was thinking along the same lines, maybe that was why he was nervous; did Molly plant that idea in his mind too? You can't kill a thought; I know all too well, what if she was trying to get him to stop interacting with me? Ugh, I hated her at the moment. All that sweetness was a disguise; inside she was the devil himself. Even if I did maybe like him, which I don't, just to make that clear, he obviously didn't like me, and wouldn't like me back. John was just a friend, he knew that, I knew that, but apparently everyone else didn't. Even though they weren't the ones that really mattered, they influenced us, placed doubt in our minds, manipulated us. I was so angry I flopped on my bed, debating whether or not to use the drug shoe again, but there was always a chance that Molly would want to talk again, and I couldn't risk her finding anything like that. She'd probably tell John I was a druggie and mentor him herself. I couldn't fall asleep because of the dreams, but I was able to just lay there in a bit of a daze, ignoring the world and blocking out my thoughts the best I could. I skipped lunch without realizing it, but I would've intentionally skipped anyway, I didn't want to confront anyone at the moment. And Molly had probably expressed her concerns to Mrs. Hudson too, the two of them probably plotted this all along. I knew Mrs. Hudson must think Molly and I looked cute together, because back before John she would usually leave the room when we were together, leaving us alone. Usually I just walked away from those situations also, it was a lot easier. When John came back I didn't notice until he waved his hand in front of my face. I smiled, shooing him away and sitting up.  
"Well at least you've spent the day productively." He decided. I just pointed to the terrain slips on the wall, getting to my feet.  
"I've narrowed these down to the most probable terrains."  
"I certainly don't like polar." He decided.  
"Don't rule out everything else though, these are just estimates." I pointed out.  
"I think I want the shores out of the three." He decided.  
"That's what I was thinking too." I agreed. I looked up at him; thinking about what Molly had said and went all red. Should I tell him? No, no way, that would make everything a lot more awkward.  
"I wrote the things you should know underneath. By now I hope you know about fire, food, and water right?" I asked.  
"The basics, yes." He said.  
"That's pretty much all, do you know how to swim?" I asked.  
"I can stay afloat ya, I'll be fine." He assured.  
"I hope so." I muttered. That would be the worst way to die, drowning in huge waves.  
"Don't look so worried." He laughed, pushing my head to the side. I frowned, ruffling my hair back in place and scooting away from him.  
"What's up with you?" he asked.  
"Nothing, I'm fine." I muttered, averting my eyes. He was on to me, dang it. 


	13. Chapter 13

"I know when you're lying, really, even mentors need a mentor." He pointed out, sitting next to me. I found myself short of breath again, and I did my absolute best to not blush.  
"I'm worried about you, I know how it is in those games and I don't want you to get hurt." I admitted.  
"There's only so much you can do about it though, and I think you've done half. I'll be fine." He assured.  
"But you can't guarantee that. Don't start fires at night." I added out of nowhere.  
"Well duh. If it's volcanic I'll just use hot rocks to heat stuff, or coals." He pointed out. I nodded, impressed with his thinking. I felt him take my hand, holding it between his own and making my entire body go dumb.  
"And if something does happen, it's not your fault." He assured, his hazel eyes staring into mine and making my stomach twist. I may not have feelings for him, but if Molly walking in right now she'd flip.  
"I know it's not my fault, as long as there wasn't anything I could do." I agreed.  
"No, Sherlock, there is nothing you can do for me except convince people to help, and I know that is difficult, especially for Twelve."  
"Can we be more positive here?" I pleaded. John looked like he was in deep talk mode, and I had a feeling this entire conversation I was expected to pour out my soul to him. I didn't dare even twitch my fingers even though they were kind of going numb. I didn't want him to think I didn't want to hold his hand, which I did, even though there was nothing romantic about it, just good friendship.  
"What's that necklace you wear?" he asked. I looked down, realizing it was hanging out instead of being tucked in my shirt like it should be. I sighed at my arrogance. With my free hand I picked it up, rubbing my thumb across the cold metal.  
"This was my token in the games, this little necklace." I said proudly.  
"That's cool, that you still wear it like that." John decided.  
"As much as I hate to remember the games, this was my token of hope." I admitted. "All those days and nights, I just wanted to get back home." John smiled sympathetically, but he didn't understand, not yet at least.  
"Well, I guess now I've got some motivation." He pointed out with a smile. I gave him a blank look, wondering why he didn't have any motivation before. "You!" he said, laughing at my ignorance.  
"Me? Not family, not anything that actually counts?" I asked.  
"More motivation then. I know you'll be a baby if I die, and if I do I don't want to see you for a long time!"  
"Well that's nice to hear."  
"Don't you dare get all suicidal or I will haunt you!" he hissed. I laughed, but it was fake. There was nothing funny about him being dead when I was trapped here.  
"I won't." I promised.  
"You better not." He insisted.  
"Dinner!" Mrs. Hudson yelled, shaking us to the real world. I tried not to sigh in disappointment as he got up, letting my hand drop and walking out the door as if it was that easy to leave me behind. I followed him, tucking the necklace back into my shirt so I don't get any more questions about it. Irene was just coming out of her room; she had changed her clothes since the training, and now she was in some type of sparkly blue dress.  
"You look nice dear." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile as she sat down. I pulled out a chair next to where John was already sitting, ignoring any glance to Molly at all. I knew she was watching me though, I could feel her eyes on me, if that made any sense at all.  
"I want to go out tonight." Irene said, not saying thank you at all.  
"Well, I'm sorry to say that I don't think that's a very good idea, I'm not quite sure we're allowed to let you out." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"Does this place have a bar?" she asked, as if that was her backup plan.  
"Honey you are much too young to drink!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. I put my head down in shame. I never really got very addicted to it, but when I needed something with less detection I broke into my secret stores. It never helped just as much, but it got my mind settled.  
"Well I don't think I'll have the opportunity, so I want to live a little." She pointed out.  
"Sorry dear, I don't think I can let you do that." She decided. Irene groaned, like she had been looking forward to this for days.  
"Just one drink?" she begged.  
"No." Mrs. Hudson demanded, a lot more final now. Irene pouted the rest of the dinner, but her annoyed silence was better than her annoyed talking, which was loud and miserable. I feared to think what Mrs. Hudson would do if she found out about all of the drugs I was doing. She'd chop my head off probably. I didn't eat much, and throughout the whole meal I made sure to avoid any sort of eye contact with Molly. I guessed that she was upset about me yelling at her before, but I thought it was what she deserved for accusing me for being in love with John. I really hoped she didn't bring the whole thing up to John, it would mortify me. I wished Molly would just forget the whole thing and leave me alone. When dinner was finally over, Mrs. Hudson made us all hot chocolate and insisted we sit on the couch and talk to one another. Irene, of course, disappeared into her room, but took her hot chocolate and half the container of marshmallows. I sat next to John, Mrs. Hudson sat in her arm chair, and Molly sat alone on a couch. This time I couldn't avoid eye contact because she talked to us, and if I wasn't looking at her then people would get suspicious. I was definitely aware of John's shoulder brushing against mine, and that means Molly must notice too. We didn't talk about much, I just sipped my drink and watched the mini marshmallows sink and resurface until they dissolved. Molly didn't say anything, or really talk to me directly, which worked for me just fine. John didn't say much either, and for some strange reason I really wanted him to hold my hand again, just to make this a little bit more bearable. I knew I shouldn't think that, it would channel the inner doubt.  
"What about you Sherlock?" John asked suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts.  
"Hum?" I muttered, totally missing the question.  
"They were saying about who we think will be the fan favorite this year." John pointed out.  
"It'll be you." I said without thinking much. I didn't know any of the others, and I could only hope he would be.  
"No, for real." John pointed out.  
"No, really, I think that out of the two rays of sunshine here, you're more of a likable person than Irene." I said truthfully, allowing myself to think more about it.  
"That's sweet." Molly said, staring at me as if trying to communicate the obvious message, but I ignored her. Part of me just wanted to kiss John just as a little bit of rebellion, but that would be absurd, Mrs. Hudson would probably have a heart attack.  
"Well, thank you for that then." John said, but he didn't sound confident in my answer. Sure, it had the possibility of being biased, but when I got really down to it made sense.  
"Don't be modest John, you're brilliant." I assured with a smile. He smiled back; in all reality our faces were very close. Thanks to Molly I just had to notice that, everything was fine before she interfered.  
"You know what, I'm quite tired." I decided, wanting to escape this social situation the best I could.  
"Oh come on, it's only eight thirty." Mrs. Hudson pointed out. I set my hot chocolate back down on the table, I had only taken a couple of sips, but they were used to me not finishing things.  
"Well, if you insist." Mrs. Hudson sighed; moving the cup onto the serving tray and leaning back with a sigh. I glanced at John, hoping I'd get another invitation for a sleepover. He just gave me a smile and a nod, so I took that as a yes and excused myself from the scene and slipped back into my room, closing the door with a snap. I didn't want to talk to anyone now; I didn't even want to think now. Maybe John was an exception, but even he had lost the carefree feel he had once had. I didn't want him to go to the games, I didn't want to see him suffer like that, and I wished beyond wishes to see him get a victor crown placed on his head, like I had. He deserved it more, and I could only hope that he might be the fan favorite. It made sense, he stole the parade crowd, maybe he could be even better in the interviews. I changed quickly into my pajamas, setting the necklace on the bedside table where it would be safe and snuggling under the covers. I didn't know if I would go over there tonight, as much as I wanted to it might get awkward if Molly had talked to John. She probably told him that I was in love with him, trying to destroy our relationship piece by piece. I actually managed to fall asleep, but this time I wasn't so lucky.

 _This time it was the fire, I was running as fast as my legs could carry me, through the dense jungle, jumping over roots and dodging vines as I felt the heat against my back. I couldn't outrun fire, not for long, I needed to find water. Animals of all sorts were evacuating what had been their homes, running in fear of the flames. I saw a creek ahead, and with one last sprint I tried to get to it without harm .But, as I said, I couldn't outrun fire. It got my foot first, crawling up my entire leg with acid-like pain. I didn't scream, as I felt like I should, I just hobbled and practically belly flopped into the shallow mud of the creek.  
_ This time I woke myself up, once again flopping off the bed and into the dresser with a painful thud. Thankfully I couldn't hear footsteps in the hall, that was a relief, but a tissue box felt from the dresser and hit me in the face. I groaned, letting my head fall back to the rug with defeat. Why did this have to happen to me, why did I have to get picked, why didn't Mycroft? Out of both of us it was no secret that he was the more mature, he could handle this stress, but could he even make it out of the games? He'd probably be too fat. I heard the door open, so, in a panic, I armed myself with the tissue box, jumping to my feet and throwing it as hard as I could at the approaching person.  
"God! Sherlock, calm down! It's me!" John's voice hissed, not wanting to wake anyone else up.  
"John, what are you doing here?" I asked, also whispering.  
"Well, you didn't show up, and then I heard something, or someone, fall, and that only meant that you were having a nightmare." He pointed out. I relaxed a little bit, just his presence made this life not seem so bad.  
"I'm fine, just a nightmare." I lied.  
"About?" John asked, but it wasn't pushy, it was just like if you want to tell, you can.  
"Fire. The fire in the arena." I said truthfully, cautiously brushing the side of my leg with my fingertips. There were scars still there, healed, of course, but still visible.  
"There's no fire here Sherlock, don't worry." He assured.  
"I know that, I'm not an idiot." I hissed.  
"Well…" John said with a sarcastic smile. I didn't find that funny, this wasn't exactly a time to joke around, my heart was racing and I could feel sweat on my brow.  
"Sorry, too soon, I know." He muttered. I nodded shyly in agreement. "Why are you in here though, the chair's empty if you need it." John pointed out.  
"I know, I, uh, well you didn't really tell me I was allowed, I didn't want anything to get all weird." I lied. It was already weird. John walked over to me and took both my hands this time, making my stomach jolt again.  
"You're okay Sherlock, don't worry." He said again. I almost felt like he was about to kiss me right here, we were barely a couple of inches apart; it would only be so easy.  
"Did you get burned in the arena?" he asked. I nodded again, it hadn't been nearly as traumatizing, but it certainly left its mark.  
"I don't remember that, form the games I mean." He said.  
"Well you're lucky." I laughed. My hands felt like lead in his, I just couldn't move them, he might pull away… "Sorry for hitting you with a tissue box." I added, as if that was something I had to apologize for.  
"It's fine, I know you were paranoid." he said with a small smile. I had to admit, it was tempting. He was right here, even if it wasn't a pure love kiss, it might be nice. We were practically the biggest bromance I've ever heard of; why not experiment a little bit? To be honest, I have never kissed any one before, and John looked like a nice first. He seemed to understand me, he didn't laugh at me when I fell out of bed at whatever time it was, he didn't run out screaming when I sort of attacked him, he was the bravest person just to be standing here with me now. I knew I couldn't get attached to tributes, I knew that it was a waist of heart, but maybe Molly was right, maybe my heart had been wasted long ago.  
"Do you want to come back over?" he asked.  
"If that's okay." I mumbled shyly. I really wanted to, of course, but I didn't want to seem clingy and desperate. I thought I was almost giving off the impression that I couldn't be alone when I slept, which was partially true. Not just anyone could ward off the nightmares, as far as I knew; only John could do that. Just my luck that he was going to get thrown to the same fate I had. He looked up at me one last time, our faces so close, his lips right there, all I had to do was lean in… and he stepped back, still holding one of my hands and leading me out the door. I guess hand holding was sort of like our thing now; it certainly calmed me down, assured me that someone was there, someone that could protect me. I followed obediently, feeling like a dog being dragged by its master, but at the moment I wasn't complaining. His bedroom door was still open, as if he had rushed to get to me, which really made me feel special. At least someone had my back here. I sat back down on the leather chair, starting to feel like it was home away from home. John lay in his bed, his hand still wrapped around mine and his hazel eyes looking at me with warmth.


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you okay now?" he asked.  
"As much as I'll ever be apparently." I decided. He smiled, as if I was in some way amusing. I think he saw me as more of a little kid than anything, he'd never want to kiss me even if I was interested, which I wasn't.  
"I miss home." He decided.  
"So do I." I agreed.  
"I miss my family, my house, my own bed, and that stupid goat at one in the morning." he laughed, but it was a sad laugh.  
"I don't have anything to miss, but it's a lot better than here." I admitted.  
"But, I don't wish it never happened, just that something canceled the games and I didn't have to go in."  
"You actually wanted your name to be pulled?" I asked with shock.  
"Well, I'd never have this whole experience would I? I'd never be famous, never see the capital, never meet you." He added, as if that as the most important thing about it.  
"I'm not that important." I shrugged, but I smiled at the complement that somehow warmed my heart.  
"I think you're perfect." He assured.  
"Now I know you're sleep talking." I laughed. Gosh, this would be perfect, right here, just kiss him, or, what if he was the one to kiss me? Oh god that would be perfect.  
"Stop hating yourself Sherlock, you know as well as I do that you're brilliant." He assured. I felt myself blush, he thought I was perfect. I pulled my blanket up to my chin again, wanting to stay up and talk to him all night. But his eyes closed, and after a while his breathing slowed and I knew he had fallen asleep. He had called perfect, and brilliant, and why in this whole world did he have to go to the games? Take me instead, take anyone in the world, but leave this poor, saint like boy alone. I was terrified for him, if he died, what would I do? Molly was right, Molly was bloody right.

I woke up first this time. John was still snoring peacefully with his head buried in his pillow, but facing me. The clock read 7:24, so we had plenty of time to get him to training at ten. I put my head back down on the chair and tried to close my eyes, but last night's events came crashing back to me. It felt awful yet beautiful to admit to myself that maybe, just maybe in this stone cold heart of mine there was a spot for John Watson. I hated proving myself wrong and having Molly be right, it was always the other way around, I was the smart one. I had never liked anyone before, I had no idea what to do, what was I supposed to do? I knew that people flirted and tried to get close to them. I had no idea what I was doing, or how to flirt or anything. Maybe Mrs. Hudson could help, or Molly? No, I couldn't let her know that she was right; I had been so mean to her about it. Maybe it would be better to ask; maybe it would help her forgive me? She didn't know I was gay, but in all fairness neither did I, but something about John made my heart open up, and all I wanted to do was let him know. He deserved some last happiness before getting shipped off to the death games. I think Mrs. Hudson would go blabbing, so at the moment, as much as I didn't want to, Molly was my best bet. The first signs that showed he was waking up were that his fingers started twitched, tightening against my fingers and sending sparks up my arm. His eyes opened and the hazel bore into my soul, making my heart do that stupid flopping thing in my chest.  
"Good morning." he said with a sleepy smile.  
"I guess you could say that." I agreed.  
"Time for another fun training day huh?" he asked, groaning.  
"Remember the terrains?" I asked.  
"Volcanic, Polar, and, uh, rocky shores!" he said confidently.  
"Try to work off those the best you can, I know you did the who survival thing, so try attacking today." I decided. Even though I sounded okay, my tongue twisted and my heart was throbbing. Just the fact of realization made everything so much more awkward.  
"I'll do my best." He agreed, sitting up in his bed and letting go of my hand. It felt a lot colder without his presence, lonely. But I got up as well, ruffling my hair and searching for my robe. I guess I hadn't grabbed it before, so I just stood there awkwardly shirtless. It didn't seem to affect John in anyway though; he was going about his business as usual, bringing his clothes in the bathroom to change. I sat in the empty room, trying to figure out what on earth to do with myself. This was new, new and terrifying. When he came back out he was dressed in the district twelve training outfit, looking very much like I did last year. I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing though.  
"You look stylish." I laughed.  
"So do you." He agreed. I blushed from the neck up. "Sarcasm, you don't have to look so scared." He assured. I smiled weakly, but turned towards the door. He walked past me and opened the door, walking back out into the living room. I ran quickly to get my robe, tying it securely around myself and joining him in the living room. It was just starting to get light out, and we were the only two up now. John turned on the TV again, and once again there was nothing on, but he settled with the news. Obviously it was a slow news day, because they were doing a report on the best type of decorated turtles. Once again, this is what had happened to our society.  
"Any other tips you can give me?" he asked.  
"About training, or just life in general? I've got two good years of learning." I pointed out with a laugh.  
"Either I guess." He shrugged.  
"Don't microwave a banana. They are very flammable." I decided. John broke into a fit of laughter, and I joined in.  
"How on earth did you find that out?" he laughed.  
"Don't you get bored?" I asked.  
"Of course I get bored, but not that bored apparently." He pointed out.  
"Well, I experiment." I shrugged.  
"The worst thing I did was throw a rock at the goat. I ended up missing anyway, but I got grounded for like, ever." John laughed.  
"You rebel." I sighed.  
"It's reasonable!" John defended.  
"What's so wrong with this goat?" I asked.  
"Well, it makes so much noise because it was someone's idea to put a bell on it, so it squeals and rings it's bell and is just so annoying. And it never shuts up all throughout the night." He added. I laughed, imagining that would be miserable.  
"Well, when you get back there you'll have a victor's house, we can be neighbors." I said happily, planning it in my head.  
"Ya, if only." He muttered.  
"How's school going? Is Mrs. Crow still there?" I asked.  
"Unfortunately." He groaned. That teacher was the Devil on earth, and she looked so much like a crow that it was the perfect last name.  
"She used to yell at me for being advanced in the class. One time she made me retake a test because I got a hundred and five on it." I laughed.  
"In her class that's not even possible!" John exclaimed.  
"I used to steal older people's textbooks, so I really had nothing to do with my life except read them and get smarter." I shrugged.  
"Well, now you don't even have to worry about that anymore."  
"Apparently being in a room with kids my age would 'frighten me', and I'd go crazy murderous." I shrugged.  
"If that's a good excuse to attack those idiots, then I'd be back there in a heartbeat."  
"Where you bullied?" I asked.  
"Not much, you?"  
"Every day." I sighed, remembering those memories. Compared to this though, the school bullies sounded quite nice actually. If I went back they'd be running from me this time.  
"I'm sorry to hear that." he muttered.  
"Not your fault, but I guess everything worked out after all." I shrugged. "I'm a famous rich guy and they're still getting yelled at by Crow."  
"Losers." John agreed with a smile.  
"You two are up early." Mrs. Hudson pointed out with a smile, walking in the living room and sitting in the armchair.  
"Not really, it's only seven still." I pointed out.  
"Well, I guess it's just early for me." she shrugged.  
"I guess so." I agreed, not really wanting her to stick around.  
"Last day of training then." She pointed out. John nodded, and I wanted to thank her for pointing that out because none of us were already aware (sarcasm).  
"I'll do my best." John said with an assuring smile.  
"How about Irene, what's she been doing then?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"Mostly flirting." John laughed. I smiled; maybe I should ask Irene how to flirt. No way.  
"Well, I guess that's a way to look at things." Mrs. Hudson decided, but she didn't look like she approved.  
"Sherlock, do you have any plans for today?" she asked.  
"Nope." I said with a smile. It was true; I don't think there's anything else I can do for him. But for myself, that's another thing.  
"Well, I guess that's nice." She shrugged.  
"Good morning all." Molly entered the room with a cheery smile, and I just looked away with annoyance. IT was a cruel reminder that she had been right all along. Stupid John, stupid heart, stupid love, no, not stupid John, brilliant John, amazing John, beautiful. Breakfast arrived a little bit later, which somehow drew Irene out of bed. She had a nasty bedhead, but she was attempting to tame it with a really big purple hairbrush.  
"Good morning Irene." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. Irene just frowned, and I noticed a long piece of black hair fall into the sausage. Well, that crossed something off of my breakfast choices. John was digging in though, the most I've seen him eat in a while. I just stuck with bacon once again. Unfortunately Molly sat across from me, so it was difficult not to look at her. I was trying to think about what exactly I was going to say to her. I knew she really didn't want me and John together, maybe not for her personal reasons, but because she was scared for me. I only had to make up a good reason to convince her to teach me to steal his heart. The tributes were rushed away at nine thirty, just so they weren't late for training like they had been a couple of times, leaving just Molly and I in the house together. I didn't know where she was, but I went to my room and changed as quickly as I could and went to try to find her. My brain was working overtime to think what I was going to say, and my feet felt like lead. My entire body was telling me this was a bad idea, but I ignored it. My heart was praising me at the moment, telling me that after all these years I was finally listening to it. I knocked cautiously on her bedroom door, and she called for a moment before opening it up.  
"Sherlock!" she said with surprise, as if she wasn't expecting me to come look for her.  
"Hi, sorry to, uh, bother you, but I was wondering if we could talk?" I asked.  
"Of course, come in." she agreed, hurrying out of the way that she almost fell over her feet. "Sorry about the mess." She muttered, but the only thing I saw out of place was a purple sock with kittens on it. I'd never expect something so childish from a victor.  
"Well, first of all, I should probably apologize for yesterday." I muttered.  
"It's alright, I guess I just made a mistake, I'm sorry…"  
"You're right." I interrupted with shame. She looked at me with shock.  
"Really?" she muttered, as if thinking I was lying to be mean.  
"I guess I needed someone to point it out, but yes. I realized that you were right and I'm lost and terrified." I admitted. Molly looked sympathetic, as if I was a child with a first crush.  
"Sherlock, I don't think it's the best idea for you, I can only imagine that after the games things might not turn up the way you want." Molly debated. As far as telling me to give up, she put it very politely.  
"Exactly, this is my last chance. I don't think I'll ever find another person that managed to, you know, impact me like this, and I just want to use this opportunity for good." I said, making it up as I went. As far as excuses go, this was a pretty good one if I do say so myself. Whatever she was going to say, she lost it.  
"Sherlock's in love!" she said with excitement. I knew half of her was pointing out that I was in love, but not with her, but the other part was delighted.  
"What should I do?" I asked in almost a pleading way.  
"Well I don't know, how far are you willing to go?" she asked, sort of awkwardly. I shrugged, I honestly had no idea.  
"Well, I want him to know, and kiss him." I said a lot quieter than the rest of the sentence. Molly tried to hide her smile, but I was blushing more than I had ever before.  
"Well, I think you should just go for it. Maybe sit him down, and confess your feelings, and then just, you know, go from there." She shrugged.  
"I've only got one day." I remembered. Tomorrow was evaluations and interviews, and the next morning we send them off. Molly nodded sadly.  
"I'm sorry it has to be that way, it's quite inconvenient." She agreed. I groaned, this wasn't helping much, I could've figured talking to him out by myself.  
"Well, I guess thanks." I muttered, going for the door again.  
"Sherlock, good luck. I think it's great that you've finally fallen for someone." She said. I smiled weakly, but then turned and walked back out the door again. I went back to my room, too embarrassed to come out for the rest of the day, but it wasn't like I really needed to. I've done all the research I had to do, and I think John had a pretty good advantage now. I read a book I had packed on Charles Darwin, doodled in my notebook, and lay there, like I did every day. I was debating using more drugs, just to ease my boredom, but I decided I might be needing them when John was in the arena. I looked at my drawing, it was John, again, with a sword in his hands, standing on top of the cornucopia as a hovercraft swooped down to pick him up. Obviously he had just won the games. Molly had wanted me to admit my feelings, but how was I supposed to do that? I seriously doubted he had any feelings towards me; actually I was almost sure he didn't, and I was afraid I'd scare him out of his mind. What would he think about a mentor/tribute relationship, it was mad! But for some reason madness seemed to follow me around. I really did want John to know, even if I hadn't known until last night I was positive it could go somewhere if he made it out okay. I hated this love, but I've also never felt this delighted. I'd tell him tomorrow, after the interviews with Flickerman, on the roof maybe, we hadn't gone up there before. It would be perfect, a happy memory for him to go in with, he had made an impact on my life in only a week. It took way too long for the tributes to come back, but when they did I bounded out of my room and greeted him.


	15. Chapter 15

"I've got more stuff for the map." He said excitedly, and the two of us just ran right back in, to the amusement of Mrs. Hudson, who muttered something to Irene about the excitement of young people. I shut and locked the door as John searched for the notepad and pens, sticking one under a couple of the names a scribbling stuff underneath. Then I held blue string for him to connect the district ten girl and the district seven girl together.  
"There we go, all the alliances I've picked up on." He said with a triumphant smile. I smiled back at him, enjoying the gleam in his eyes.  
"Do you know what you're going to do for the evaluations?" I asked. John's good mood seemed to drop.  
"There's nothing I'm good at, nothing that will impress the judges." He pointed out.  
"You're great at a lot of things, but it needs to be something you can demonstrate. How about weights, just throw some of those around maybe?" I suggested.  
"I'm not strong enough for that." he defended.  
"Well, swords then, what about those?" I thought. Or you could just smile and be adorable and nice; they'd probably give you a nine for that.  
"I guess I could try that." he shrugged.  
"I'm sure whatever you do, you'll be brilliant." I assured.  
"And what about the interview, should we be doing anything for that?" he asked.  
"I know that Sara is planning the outfits as we speak, only a little bit of posture and manners and we'll be good. Remember what we're going for right?"  
"I'm supposed to be adorable and innocent." He remembered.  
"Great." I said happily. "How about we do a little bit of acting, pretend I'm Flickerman, and you're you, of course." I suggested, sitting on the bed and making John sit in a chair in front of me.  
"Posture John." I hissed. He corrected himself, sitting up straight and putting a charming smile on his face. "Okay, now we welcome, from District Twelve, John Watson!" I announced in a terrible impression of Flickerman, the interviewer. John smiled more, waving his hand a little bit to the pretend audience. I felt like a complete idiot, but shook his hand and told him how lovely it was to have him here, even though in the real interviews it was mandatory.  
"So John, the public is dying to know, how do you see yourself in the upcoming games?" I asked. He tried to hold in his laughter; apparently the idea of me being Caesar Flickerman was preposterous.  
"Well Caesar, I think I see myself as just another tribute really, an underdog, and somehow I might be able to push through and become a victor, only time can tell." He shrugged.  
"Good answer." I added. "Now tell us, how is your life in District Twelve? I know last year you sent another underdog, very attractive and funny, how is your district coping with that?" I asked.  
"Well, I don't know who you're talking about, because if I'm correct Sherlock is an overgrown toad with zero sense of humor." John pointed out, but kept a smile and good posture.  
"I beg to differ, if you must know all of the teens these days think he's extremely dreamy and smart." I kept my Caesar voice on, and I could tell John was struggling to keep a straight face.  
"Well then the teens these days are all blind and will be very disappointed to find he has no emotions whatsoever." John said. Idiot, I have emotions. I considered just using my Caesar voice to tell him, it would be quite funny to say that the audience wants to know if he loves his mentor as much as his mentor loved him, but I decided against it. This needed to be perfect, and that didn't sound like the perfect setting or time. "I think the people of District Twelve are quite pleased to send through another victor, especially on these terms. I understand they really needed another mentor to help out." John answered truthfully.  
"And tell me, are you at all nervous?" I asked.  
"Well of course, to be honest I'm terrified but of course everyone is, if they're not they're lying to themselves. I just want to get this over with, and if I'm alive at the end then that's great, but if I go down, I'll go down fighting." John said truthfully.  
"That is very sweet Mr. Watson, and I know your fabulous mentor really doesn't want you to go down." I said, feeling, for some pathetic reasons, my eyes get hot, as if I was on the verge of tears.  
"Then I'd tell him that my last thoughts would be of him." John said. I gave him an odd look, trying not to look to desperate or excited.  
"Well your mentor will say that you should probably be thinking about family."  
"He's become my second family." John said, and I felt my face get red.  
"That's very touching Mr. Watson, ladies and Gentleman," I got to my feet and gestured for him to do the same. "John Watson!" I said, maybe a little bit too loud, holding his hand up. He smiled and bowed, the invisible audience cheering.  
"That was good, definitely." I decided, trying not to bring up what he said before. I really hoped that wasn't part of some act, because it had really touched my heart.  
"I hope it'll be fine when the time comes." He agreed with a smile. Dinner was ready a little bit later, so we went to the table and sat next to each other, waiting for Irene once again. Molly smiled encouragingly at me, but I just pretended to ignore her and start eating. I only had a pile of mashed potatoes, but in comparison to the absent lunch and just bacon for breakfast I thought it was pretty good for me. John had some steak and broccoli, but just picked halfheartedly at it. No one ate much, I could tell we were all thinking the same thing, we were terrified, for the tributes and for ourselves, we all knew there was only one more day until the games, and even Irene looked nervous.  
"So, how has everyone's day been?" Molly asked rather nervously, eyeing John and I again.  
"Pretty good, I guess. Stupid training though, those people are two times my size." John decided.  
"Well that's unfortunate." Molly sighed.  
"And I still haven't been accepted into the Careers, but I think the boy from Four fancies me." Irene said with a smile, tucking a lose piece of hair behind her ear.  
"How about you Sherlock?" Molly asked.  
"Fine." I muttered, not looking up, but rather annoyed about how bloody obvious she was being. She might as well be holding a sign that said Sherlock and I talked about something today and I want to know how it turned out.  
"And Mrs. Hudson?" she asked.  
"I went out for lunch with Mrs. Turner, the Ninth District escort." She said happily.  
"That's nice, where did you go?" Molly asked. I hated casual conversation; I hated everything that had to do with going out for lunch and having an apple pie normal life. We were cursed, we couldn't have that, we were cursed to live this evil fame life of death and misery.  
"Well, it was nice, her boy just got married a couple of months ago, so she was going on about that." Mrs. Hudson said happily. Molly smiled pleasantly and said how nice that was, and I just stabbed my fork rather aggressively into the pile of mashed potatoes.  
"Are you okay dear? You seem rather distracted." Mrs. Hudson observed. Oh, so Molly hadn't told her yet. That was a shock; it was almost like they had a link between them, everything Molly knows Mrs. Hudson does too.  
"Have I ever listened to your boring stories anyway?" I snapped.  
"Well, no, but usually you're not so off in space about everything." She pointed out.  
"It's been a long day, and we have a lot more rough days coming up." I lied. It had definitely been a long day, there was nothing about that, but it was only because I've been so bloody distracted.  
"May I be excused?" I asked.  
"Before desert?" Mrs. Hudson asked, as if that was rare for me to skip.  
"Yes?" I asked pleadingly.  
"Well, if you insist." She sighed. I thanked her and scurried off to my bedroom, not in the mood to talk or even be looked at by anyone. Except John of course. I felt like I wanted to break into my drug shoe again, but I didn't, I had to rationalize, and I was doing quite well for two or so days without an attack. I threw myself onto the bed, face first into the pillows once again. I had one more day and night with John now, two more nights with his hand in mine, and then I was completely on my own again. I wanted John back now, I wanted him to come in and ask me what was wrong, to hold my hand and comfort me like he had before. But for some reason I waited, and waited, no one came knocking, and I was on my own still. I imagined Mrs. Hudson and Molly wanted to talk together over desert and he was just too polite to walk away like I was able to. So I just stayed there, feeling lonely and sorry for myself as ever. There was a knock on the door when the clock read 8:38, even though there wasn't a schedule, I still considered him late.  
"Come in!" I yelled. I didn't bother looking up when he entered. "You're late. I mean, it's not like you want to listen to them blab."  
"Well sorry to hear that dear." Mrs. Hudson answered. I sat up with surprise, not wanting to look like as much of a wreck in front of her.  
"Mrs. Hudson, what are you doing here?" I asked. She always liked to talk, but never actually cornered me like this. She closed the door, so that only meant one thing, Molly told her.  
"I've heard about what's been going on." She said simply.  
"You know, the reason I go to people to talk usually means I don't want others finding out." I snapped.  
"I believe you'll need all the help you can get." She pointed out, sitting on the corner of the bed and smiling kindly at me.  
"I'm fine!" I hissed.  
"Don't be so nervous dear, it's completely natural to have a crush, and I'm just here to help you." She assured.  
"I don't need help!" I insisted, but for some reason she has a talent for completely ignoring me.  
"Now, I know that this particular crush might be a little bit more complicated since you've never had any form of relationship, and highly doubt John had ever had a boyfriend before…"  
"I know, really!" I growled.  
"I think that you should tell him how you feel before he goes in, but don't do anything he wouldn't be comfortable with."  
"Mrs. Hudson, thank you, but I could work that out by myself, you don't have to worry about me, and when you go tell Molly everything I'm sorry do tell her to keep her nose out of my business. That goes for you too." I added with a frown. I didn't need their mentoring; I didn't want to hear about this pathetic crush every other hour from one of them.  
"I just think you…"  
"Sorry, should I stay out?" John's head was poking through the door, looking a bit awkward.  
"John! No, she was, just leaving actually, goodbye Mrs. Hudson, thank you for your advice and feel free to ignore everything about my life from now on." I said quickly, feeling my cheeks glow as I practically pushed her away. How much had John heard?  
"No really, if I'm interrupting something I can always just go away." John assured, leaning in and out of the door guiltily.  
"It's fine dear, it was nothing really." Mrs. Hudson said, patting his shoulder and giving me an encouraging smile before leaving the room.  
"What was that about?" John asked as he closed the door behind him.  
"Molly and she have been bugging me for a while about making friends around here, like, other mentor things. I think it's just a scam for me to spend more time with Molly really." I shrugged, scooting backwards so I could lean my whole back against the headboard.  
"Sorry for interrupting, I didn't really hear anything." he muttered.  
"John, I assure you that your timing was perfect. I don't want to hear them talk to me and I certainly don't need friends." I said with a smile.  
"Obviously you need a friend just to sleep peacefully." He remembered.  
"Sleeping peacefully is a lot more difficult for me." I objected.  
"Then you do need friends." John pointed out.  
"I don't need friends, I only need you." I defended. John smiled rather shyly, and I just remembered that sentence could probably be interpreted many different ways. I hoped he picked the less awkward one; I wasn't ready to tell him, not yet. Unless he confessed first, that would make my life way easier.


	16. Chapter 16

John walked over and flopped onto the bed, laying horizontally and leaning his head on his elbows to look up at the wall with the tributes on it. I only had enough time to pull my legs back to avoid being crushed.  
"I guess I'll be seeing them at the interviews then." John muttered.  
"I guess so. Who do you think will be ranked best?" I asked.  
"The boy from one, I think he'll get an eleven or twelve." John guessed.  
"And how about you, what do you think you'll get?" I asked. I extended my legs over his lower back, sort of pinning him down. John didn't seem too bothered by that, in fact he only glanced at me with a glint of amusement.  
"I think I'll get a four or five, if I can find out what to even do." He shrugged.  
"What are you best at?"  
"Nothing, I don't do anything right." He muttered.  
"You could tap dance." I suggested. He broke into a fit of laughter, which brought a smile to my face.  
"Did you really just suggest that?" he asked through laughs.  
"It was a joke. You know what those are I hope? It's when someone says something not quite true to try to make another person laugh." I pointed out.  
"Well, I'm pretty sure I can cross that off of my list at the moment." he decided.  
"Probably a good idea." I agreed.  
"I can try hacking stuff up with a knife, you can't really mess that up." John shrugged.  
"I think you'll be fine, don't worry." I assured, wiggling my toes a little bit for encouragement. John just smiled, letting his head drop onto the bed with a defeated groan.  
"Let's not even think about it now, let's just focus on what's now." I suggested.  
"Don't get too sentimental." He commanded.  
"Of course not, but we've only got a day until, you know, that." I pointed out.  
"What are we supposed to do, cry about it?" he laughed.  
"No, just enjoy this time we have before it."  
"What, do you want to tell each other secrets or play truth or dare?" he laughed.  
"Truth or dare John?" I asked.  
"No, that's stupid!" he debated. I just glared at him with an eyebrow raised.  
"Truth." He groaned. I thought about that.  
"Who's your crush?" I asked with a laugh, but secretly hoping the answer would be me.  
"Well, there's this girl back at home, Mary Morstan, she's been my crush forever, but she never noticed me really. God, she was beautiful though." He admitted. My heart sank a little bit, but just because he had a crush on a girl doesn't mean he can't be with me.  
"Don't say was. When you come back in that crown she'll have to marry you." I laughed, but cringing as I did so.  
"Truth or Dare Sherlock?" he asked. I groaned, I knew that I'd get the old crush question, and I'd love to avoid that if all possible.  
"Dare." I decided. John smiled mischievously, and I knew whatever he was planning, it couldn't be good.  
"I dare you…. To go out in the living room, balance a plate on your head and pretend you're an alien." He decided.  
"How long?" I groaned, but I could tell this was going to be hilarious for all of us, if not humiliating.  
"As long as it takes someone to play along." He said after a bit of thought.  
"Are you trying to ruin my reputation?" I asked with a laugh.  
"Course I am, now get out there!" he demanded.  
"You're going to be watching I presume?" I guessed. John pushed my legs off of him, making me get up and go to the door. With one last smile I walked out the door, hearing people talking in the living room. I was going to really regret this, but I walked to the table and got a plate, holding it to the top of my head and walking over to where I saw three heads, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, and Irene were all talking with hot chocolate.  
"Oh, Sherlock, are you okay?" Molly asked, looking around at the others to see if I wasn't just some wild hallucination. I almost lost it right there because I heard John start to laugh from where ever he was watching from.  
"Who is this Sherlock you talk about? I am Sher…bot…" I muttered, trying my absolute best to sound like an alien but at the moment all I sounded was stupid. Their faces were priceless, Mrs. Hudson looked like she was completely terrified, Molly looked rather disappointed, but still confused, and Irene looked so annoyed at the world, as if curing the day she ever met these losers.  
"What?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"Take me to your leader." I said in my best impression of a robot, walking with stiff legs over to Molly, who I knew might play along.  
"Sherlock are you drunk?" she asked cautiously. Not recently no.  
"Take me to your leader." I insisted, holding onto the plate the best I could and biting my tongue to prevent from laughing. I heard what sounded like a thud from my room, so John must've fallen over with laughter.  
"Sherlock honey why don't you go back and rest a little bit." Mrs. Hudson insisted.  
"I am Sherbot, take me to your…" I broke into a fit of laughter, almost falling to the floor like John did. "Oh my god I can't do this anymore!" I exclaimed between heavy breaths. The entire tom looked all too confused, but I put the plate on the floor and ran back to my room, laughing way too loud to be normal. John had collapsed on the floor, as I had guessed, but I just shoved him inside with my foot and closed the door again behind me.  
"Oh my god, that was the most humiliating thing…" I gasped.  
"That was absolutely… golden." He agreed, almost wheezing with laughter.  
"You just want to make me look like an idiot." I said, straighten up and getting myself under control. Once he got himself together again he stood up, wiping tears from his eyes and complaining that his cheeks hurt from laughing too much.  
"Truth or dare, John." I said rather harshly. He thought about that, as if it was a life changing decision.  
"Well, I know you're going to torture me more, so truth."  
"Oh come on, live a little." I protested.  
"Fine, dare." He decided, making me smile. I always could do the obvious thing, make him kiss me, but that would be the worst way to get a guy to like you ever. I thought about it for a moment, and then smiled evilly.  
"Go out there and lick the window a lot. Complain that it tastes like chicken and then come back in." I decided with a laugh. John groaned, but I guess he thought it was better than being an alien. He walked out the door, and I peeked my head out the door to watch with amusement. John walked into the living room, where whatever conversation they were having was cut off.  
"Is Sherlock okay? He was… What in the world!?" Molly exclaimed. John was apparently licking the window, I couldn't quite tell from this angle. He turned back around, sighing.  
"That window tastes like chicken." He decided.  
"That's nice dear. Has Sherlock been giving you alcohol?" Mrs. Hudson asked with legitimate concern, but John just ignored her, walking back to the room. I laughed, but not nearly as hard.  
"You are such a bad influence on me; I swear you'll get us both killed before the games even start!" John laughed, shutting the door again and climbing back on the bed. I pushed him over and took back my spot on the headboard, John lying over the end again, so took that opportunity to put my feet over him again, just for the fun of it.  
"Truth or dare?" he asked.  
"Dare." I decided. I still didn't want that crush question to come up, because according to the rules I had to confess.  
"Lick my foot." he decided, taking off his sock and wiggling his toes in the air.  
"No way, that is completely unsanitary." I objected.  
"Come on, it's a dare!" he hissed.  
"Doesn't mean I have to do it." I pointed out.  
"This game does have rules you know, there are consequences." He pointed out.  
"Okay, what are they?" I asked.  
"If you don't lick one of my feet, you have to lick both." He decided.  
"That's completely not fair!" I defended. He raised his foot up to my face, and just the smell was enough to make me sick.  
"This is pathetic." I defended.  
"Do it!" he demanded. I closed my eyes tight and, with terror, stuck out my tongue as far as I could. Instead of tasting a foot though, I heard a very feminine scream, and unless John had gotten voice surgery I knew someone had walked in. I opened my eyes and saw Molly white faced, peeking into the room and looking horrified.  
"Not what it looks like!" I said immediately.  
"Have you two been drinking, or doing some type of drug?" she asked.  
"Sherlock really wanted to know what my foot tasted like, so, being the gentleman…" I slapped him in the side of the head.  
"We are wasting our time with a game of Truth or Dare, and no we haven't been under the influence of any drug." I assured. It looked like a ton of bricks had just been taken off of her shoulders.  
"Thank god, I didn't know what to think! But could you please keep your game to yourself? We're talking out here." she pointed out. I nodded, and John gave thumbs up before sticking his foot in my face for Molly to see. I shrieked like a little girl, falling over myself to clean my face off while he laughed. Molly laughed nervously, but she closed the door without another word.  
"You absolute jerk!" I exclaimed, filling a towel with soap and water and washing my face off, aggressively trying to get whatever nasty germs he had off my skin.  
"You're such a girl." He laughed as I came out, wiping off my wet face with my shirt.  
"You're the one who suggested this!" I defended.  
"You were the one who wanted to play a game!" he pointed out.  
"Got me there." I admitted. "Molly's probably terrified of both of us now."  
"Didn't she think we were in a relationship or something?" he asked.  
"Oh ya, that…" I muttered, wishing he kept that little detail out of this conversation.  
"Stupid." John decided, but he left it at that, which I was thankful for. I didn't like him calling it stupid though, I knew he had no idea that I liked him, but still.  
"I guess the adults ruined our game." I decided with annoyance.  
"Maybe just in time I guess." He agreed. I flopped on my bed, I didn't want him to leave yet, but a part of me knew he wouldn't.  
"You know, you may look mature and professional, but in reality you are the biggest kid I've ever met." John decided. I cracked a nervous smile, hoping that wasn't the only way he saw me.  
"At first I thought you were a terrified wimp, whom I'd be ignoring for the rest of my life, but here we are, I actually consider you my only friend." I said with a nervous smile.  
"You know what, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He decided.  
"Then you've been tuning out of everything I've ever told you." I decided. I flopped back on the pillows, laying horizontally next to him, but leaving a good distance apart. He raised his hand up and ruffled my hair, making my heart melt into a pile of goo. I wanted to do something to return the favor, but I just sat there like a lovesick idiot.  
"I guess you can't go off first impressions." He shrugged. I sighed, should I tell him, could I tell him? Not now, I didn't want him to run away from me, he'll probably think I'm a complete freak. If I had to mess up, it would be better to have him leave me for only one night than an entire day. He looked up at the clock and looked quite surprised.  
"It's nine thirty already! I should be off; this will probably be the last good night sleep I'll have in a while." He muttered, but I tried to ignore that comment. "You're welcome to the chair, if you were waiting for an invitation." He added. I smiled thankfully at him and told him that I would be there, and watched as he walked back out the door, all that was left of him was the soft shut of the door. I lay there for a little bit, groaning to myself and dragging myself to my feet. He was completely, one hundred percent perfect, he was funny, kind, and he understood me even if he had no clue what I was going through. Why couldn't I just admit it, why could I not just tell him my feelings, chances are that even if he wasn't interested he might pretend, because that's what he did, he was nice, and I knew he wouldn't want me to feel bad about myself. I quickly changed into my pajamas and waited until later, when I knew everyone would already be in bed. I wandered into the dark hallway, about to open the door to his room when I saw a smiling face in the hallway a little ways away.  
"Hello Sherlock, or should I say, Sherbot?" it was Irene. My blood ran cold, half of me wanted to run into John's room and avoid that chilling tone in her voice.  
"You're up late." I muttered, trying to back up a little bit, but she moved closer.  
"I could be wrong, or I'd say that you and John have a little thing going huh?" she asked.  
"No, just, you know, friends." I assured, now quite terrified. What was the purpose of moving closer, what was she doing? Whatever she was, I wanted it to stop, I had no interest in her, I really hoped she wasn't interested in me.  
"Why waste your precious time with him?" she asked, still moving closer as she spoke.  
"I, uh, was just making sure he was okay, it's been a couple of rough nightmare nights." I said again, debating to just turn the handle and let John save me from this.  
"Well how about, you just let him be, he'll be fine." She assured. Now she was way too close for my liking, a foot, maybe less.  
"Please, just, go back to bed." I begged, but before I could say anything else she jammed her lips onto mine, pushing me into John's door. I panicked, trying to free myself from this absolute horror and seeing one last option. I turned the handle, falling into the room with Irene, still kissing me, falling on top of me.  
"Sherlock bloody…." John stopped, pulling his blankets up to his chin when he saw Irene, who got to her feet with a huff and scampered away, as if I had offended her in anyway. My heart was pounding in my chest, but not in the good love way, it was the type of feel when you just did something you never ever want to do again.  
"What was that about!" he demanded, looking terrified. I closed the door, wiping my mouth on the sleeve of my robe.  
"Totally not my idea, I promise!" I assured.  
"Well I could figure that out myself, but what an entrance!" John said, but he didn't sound excited, more embarrassed of witnessing it.  
"Blah, that was awful." I decided.  
"You've never kissed anyone before have you?" he asked.  
"Terrible first kiss, ya." I agreed.  
"Well, I'm sorry it wasn't memorable. You just have to wait for number two I guess." He said. I gave him a small smile before locking the door behind me, just in case, I've been having quite a miserable day as far as intruders. I didn't want to tell him that I really hoped he'd be my first voluntary kiss, that if that happened the memory would be tattooed into my heart for all eternity. I climbed into the chair again, pulling the blanket over myself and taking his hand again, as if it was routine by now. Even though we've held hands a couple of times, it made me freak out, just the presence of him so close…  
"Well, I can't guarantee you won't have nightmares tonight." He laughed, but yet again I just smiled shyly. There wasn't much I could say after that, I couldn't get over the thought of Irene, her filthy lips, disgusting. I closed my eyes first this time, trying to fall asleep the best I could. I heard him mutter something, probably a good night, and apparently he fell asleep as well.


	17. Chapter 17

I woke up to the most unnatural feeling ever, sunlight. Someone had opened the blinds, and the real light was shining over me for the first time in what felt like forever. I hadn't been outside since the coffee shop, actually, which felt like ages ago when in reality it was only four days ago.  
"Wakey wakey!" John exclaimed, obviously just out of the shower and in the Twelve training outfit.  
"What is this poison!" I groaned, pulling my blanket up to cover my head.  
"It's called sunlight; it's what happens when you go outside for once." John pointed out. I groaned, I didn't want sunlight, I wanted peace for now, and sleep, lots of sleep.  
"Close the curtain, I need to sleep." I moaned.  
"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson came knocking, you slept through that, apparently we need to practice for interviews today before twelve, when the evaluations are." He said.  
"Didn't we already practice?" I groaned.  
"Not good enough, so get up!" he demanded. I got to my feet grouchily, pulling my robe around my shoulders and frowning at him.  
"It's seven o'clock in the morning!" I exclaimed with horror.  
"Yes, it is, but apparently that's when Mrs. Hudson wants us up." he pointed out. "You're so lazy."  
"If you must know I hadn't slept for a year or so, so this whole week is very nice to me." I objected. John just glared at me, opening the door and making me follow him out.  
"What if I see…her?" I asked.  
"Then you pretend nothing ever happened." he pointed out.  
"She's jealous of you." I whispered, just so no one else heard.  
"Why would she be jealous of me?"  
"Because she still thinks we're a couple."  
"Then let her think that, it'll keep her away won't it?" He decided, walking into the living room, where Mrs. Hudson and Molly were already up.  
"Good morning dears." Mrs. Hudson muttered.  
"Who's good idea was this?" I groaned.  
"If you want him to do well on that interview, I believe you have to put the effort in." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"If I remember correctly, I answered three questions in that interview, and he asked at least seven."  
"Oh ya, and the rest of the time you just kind of stared at him." John remembered with a laugh.  
"Not really helping John." I muttered. He just rolled his eyes and sat on the empty couch. I sat next to John, leaning my head on my fingertips.  
"Who's great idea was this, getting up at seven?" I hissed.  
"Stop being such a baby Sherlock, we need to practice for the interviews with what little time we have." Mrs. Hudson sighed, as if it was obvious.  
"Speaking of time, where's Irene, she really should be out here right now, Sherlock can you run and get her?" Molly asked.  
"I'll do it, don't worry." John assured before I could protest. I gave him a sort of 'thank you' glare as he went back into the hallway. So, John wanted Irene to think we're a couple? I wondered how far he was willing to go in front of everyone else to keep her away from me. I felt so special that he was actually looking out for me when I was supposed to be watching out for him. There was an angry yell, and John came jogging back.  
"She'll be out in a minute." He decided with a smile, plopping down on the couch again.  
"Well, I think I ordered breakfast early, I'm not quite sure where it is at the moment." Mrs. Hudson said, looking over the couches as if it had magically appeared.  
"Well, why'll we're here, what are you going to do for your interview?" Molly asked John. He gave me a glance, as if asking whether or not to tell her, but I just rolled my eyes.  
"Well, we were thinking kind of innocent childish thing, Sherlock said if parents see someone that looks and acts like a kid then they wouldn't want them being killed." John said simply.  
"Good thinking Sherlock!" Molly said with a smile in my direction.  
"And we all know what Irene is doing." Mrs. Hudson pointed out with a bit of a frown.  
"Well, we can all guess. She hadn't really talked to me about it yet." Molly shrugged. I can tell being ignored was getting to her a little bit, she always liked to talk to the tributes, and Irene wouldn't talk and John and I were a restricted pair, she didn't know half of what we did.  
"It's not your fault, she's just stubborn." John assured, taking the words out of my mouth, not that I was actually going to talk though. Molly smiled thankfully, but I could tell she didn't fully believe him. Irene came out of the hallway not long before breakfast, she was dressed in her training outfit and her hair was tied into a tight bun with a blue sparkly bird hairpin. I thought that was extremely stupid looking, but apparently she thought it looked good. We all sat around the table, said a prayer now more than ever for good luck and what not, and then started to eat. I was nervous, I couldn't tell myself why, but there was a twist in my stomach that made me want to curl up in a little ball and hide. Of course, I'd take John with me and go where the capital wouldn't find us, which was pretty much nowhere, they had spies and planes and whatnot, just long enough for him to avoid the deathtrap games. I nibbled on some bacon while Molly was telling the two tributes about how to act in the interviews. Irene was obviously tuning out, not even looking at her mentor, but John looked as if he was trying to memorize every word of what she said. I heard something about sitting up straight and smiling when appropriate, but I followed Irene's lead and just tuned out.  
"What do you think Sherlock, any tips?" Molly asked.  
"Play your roles, it's a TV show, you can be whoever you want, as long as it sells." I shrugged. Mrs. Hudson looked like she was going to applaud that, and John looked very impressed. I thought that was stupid, I just said what was on my mind, and I thought that was well said. Molly went on again, so I just stared at a blank space in the world and zoned out, pretending I was back in my house again, my old house, the real one, where I wasn't a victor, where no one knew my name, when I was just some nerd that got thrown in the mud. Life was so much easier back then, even if it seemed like hell on earth. At least back then I didn't have to see my one love get hacked to pieces on live TV. When breakfast was over we had some time to prepare, since the rest of the afternoon would be dedicated to getting them ready for the interview. Molly took John and Irene, setting up the armchairs to look like Caser and the tribute's chairs and made John sit down first, since Irene was eating a piece of cake from god knows where. I sat on the opposite couch, staying as far as possible from her as I could. I was still quite traumatized by that kiss, thing, I wanted to erase it from all of time and space, but for now I just had to live with it. Irene wasn't acting like anything had happened, I hadn't seen her even glance at me, but I wasn't complaining. Molly was asking dumb questions to John, who was sitting up nice and straight with a look of interest on his face. I remembered my interview, what he said was true, I had answered only some of the questions, and for the rest my throat had seemed to close up. At least I had something for people to remember me by, even if it wasn't exactly positive. I made a face at John when Molly's back was turned, and in the middle of his sentence about his positivity for the upcoming games he broke into a fit of laughter. Immediately Molly seemed to suspect me, and turned to make sure I wasn't doing anything. I had just enough time to wipe the face off and look away with the most bored expression.  
"What's so funny?" she asked.  
"Nothing, just, nerves I guess." He muttered. Molly didn't seem to think that was very reasonable, but she kept going, asking John how his future would be if he was crowned victor. I made another face at him, sticking my tongue out and probably looking like a stupid lizard or something, and he lost it again. Once again, Molly turned, and I looked away. John went on as if nothing had happened, leaving Molly to wonder if she was hallucinating or not. It went on that way for a couple of times before I couldn't help but laughing myself, and Molly got all mad and sent me to my room as if I was a little kid. Apparently distracting John from this important situation was immature. I knew she was secretly happy for yelling at me because of something other than being mean or rude though. I shut the door, leaving it unlocked in case John was able to escape, and looked over the investors again, trying to memorize their faces for future reference. To my annoyance, John didn't get time off, and they called me out just as they were stepping into the elevator. I was just able to wave and wish him good luck before the doors shut, blocking out whatever he was about to say next. I sighed, wandering back to my room to do what Sherlocks do best, sit and reconsider my life choices. This time I locked the door since I could almost sense Molly wanting to talk to me about something. I flopped onto my bed, wanting John to be here, so we could spend our last day together in peace. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, even if it only had been for a short time, I wanted him to agree, I wanted so much from this day but I knew I'd be too scared to say anything. My master plan had to been to go to the roof, but I didn't see that happening, considering it was chilly out and I wasn't in much of a going places mood. I guess it would be alright to just tell him here, it's not like he was expecting something romantic or anything. Maybe, if I was really lucky, he'd kiss me, because god knows I'm not going to be the one to kiss him. The experience with Irene was terrifying enough to be honest. Why me, out of all people, the girls had to like me, when I had absolutely no interest in even being acquaintances. I waited for a long while in there, I didn't entertain myself with books or drawing, I just kind of sat there, waiting for John to come back and tell me all about the evaluations. When that time finally came he practically came running through the door, slamming it shut behind him as if worried someone would over hear.  
"How'd it go!" I asked, sitting up in the bed with anticipation.  
"I thought it was okay, I decapitated some dummies and managed to hit a target with knife." He shrugged.  
"What do you think you got?" I asked.  
"Five maybe?" He guessed halfheartedly.  
"Well, they announce it at eleven thirty I think." I said, checking the clock on the dresser. It was now ten thirty; I had to wait all that time for him, time flies when you're love sick in a fancy prison. John looked nervous, as if he didn't believe his performance would amount to anything. I had confidence in him, even if he didn't believe in himself.  
"Don't worry John, you'll be fine!" I assured. He sat on the edge of the bed, tapping his feet nervously.  
"Wonder if I didn't do good enough though, I'd ruin everything!" he pointed out.  
"No, you still have the interview, and even if that doesn't work out, the games will prove your inner talent." I pointed out.  
"I don't have inner talent." He debated, and I felt like kicking him off the bed, but that wouldn't really help his self-esteem.  
"That's quitter talk, and you won't get anywhere with that, you've done countless things that you probably don't even notice!" I pointed out.  
"Name one." he insisted.  
"Well, take me for example. You know how I was, terrified, human hating sociopath, and we meet and suddenly I'm an alien!" I pointed out.  
"So you're saying I should've played truth or dare with the gamemakers?" he asked, making me crack a smile.  
"Maybe you should've." I laughed. Somehow, even in the darkest times, John could come and make some stupid joke, and suddenly the sun seemed to rise, if only for a moment.  
"I bet anything's better than hacking at some dummy." He muttered. I wanted to hug him, tell him everything would be fine because the smile that was my beacon of hope was slowly but surely becoming a frown.  
"Well, we have an hour to kill, I'm sure you don't want to learn more about interviews…" I guessed.  
"Oh god no, I'm so done with listening about posture and manners and I really don't care anymore." he groaned.  
"I was exactly like you, the only difference is that I came into it with that mood."  
"I'm pretty sure the audience could tell." John agreed.  
"You're not supposed to say that, you're supposed to say, _Sherlock, you were so good, everyone loved you!"_ I said in a really high pitched impression of his voice.  
"Well, I don't lie." He pointed out.  
"That really touches my heart." I lied. He shrugged, as if trying to tell me it was the truth.  
"Do you know what Irene did?" I asked.  
"God, I don't really want to." He laughed. "What even happened last night, I was half asleep when, you know, that happened."  
"Oh god, I don't even want to think about it. I was coming to sleep in the chair when she just came out of nowhere and kissed me. The only escape was to open the door." I shrugged.  
"You said she was jealous of me." he pointed out.  
"No, just because, you know, she was never really exposed to the truth. She thinks, you know, that we're together." I said simply. I could just go out and say it, right here, but I didn't want him to be all scared and not do well on the interview. In fact, it was probably best not to tell him, would it distract him from the games somehow? But no, if he died, I'd never get to tell him how much he positively changed my life for the absolute best.  
"God Sherlock, you're a chick magnet!" he laughed. I just frowned; I didn't like that title much.  
"No, I'm just, beautiful." I laughed, striking an obnoxious pose and pretending a giant fan was ruffling my hair back.  
"Oh stop, you're embarrassing yourself!" he exclaimed, hitting me lightly on the shoulder but laughing as he did it. The mood seemed to drop immediately though, it was hard to smile and laugh when the games were hovering above us.  
"So, one last day huh?" he asked miserably.  
"No, don't think like that, you'll be fine, just fine." I assured.  
"But Sherlo…"  
"No, I won't talk about any of that until after the interview, then we can cry and confess emotions as much as we want, but keep your mouth shut before that." I snapped, really not wanting to hear anything John had to say that would make my heart hurt. In the end though, we were called out my Molly, who had the TV on.  
"It'll be on in a couple of minutes." She pointed out.  
"We still have fifteen minutes!" I pointed out.  
"We have sandwiches for lunch, nothing special, just get a plate and sit on the couch." Mrs. Hudson said. I grabbed a plate and a couple of sandwiches, plus a hand full of chips. I wasn't very hungry, but it would take my mind off of John for a little bit. Instead of sitting on the couch I sat on the floor, pressing my toes into the furry rugs and taking a cautious bite of my sandwich. The news man was talking about the upcoming scores, not really mentioning John by name, but the Career hopefuls and the parade. They showed clips of everyone, but John and Irene captured the camera the most, smiling and waving.  
"John you're on TV!" I said with joking excitement.  
"I think you'll find that will occur more often now." He pointed out, sitting right above me so that he could tap me with his foot if he wanted to. I didn't want to think that this would be the last lunch we'd have together.  
"Eat as much as possible." Mrs. Hudson said, sitting in the armchair and watching the TV. The light pouring in from the picture windows really lit up the flat, but gave the TV a nasty glare. Even Irene came out to watch, sitting on the couch and apparently following Mrs. Hudson's orders, her plate was almost bursting. After a while the Capital logo flashed on the screen and Molly shushed everyone rather aggressively, almost spilling her chips on the floor. Caesar Flickerman's annoying face appeared on the screen, smiling as if this was a completely new thing to get all excited about. His hair this year was an awful shade of canary yellow; he had this psychotic obsession of dying it every new game. I was shocked he hadn't run out of colors yet, and just waiting for it to be brown or something not very festive. He talked for a little bit about the upcoming games, about how great it was to be the host for another year and other stuff people didn't care about. I grabbed a notepad from the table, prepared to scribble down the ranks of the people he read off. I didn't seem to realize that I was leaning heavily on John's legs, but Molly seemed to notice, smiling at me encouragingly. I ignored her, but didn't do anything to sit back up. He started to read off the names and scored, the boy from one getting a nine, the girl getting an eight, on and on it went. Everyone had relatively gotten good scores, except Jeffrey, Greg's tribute; he got a five, which was still better than I had. It would shock everyone if somehow he came out on top, actually becoming a psycho killer or whatever. Once he got to eleven everyone stopped talking, anticipating for when he got to us.  
"John Watson," John's picture flashed on the screen and my heart stopped, "Eight." Caesar read. I didn't even hear what Irene got; I put my plate on the floor and scrambled to my feet, crashing into him with an attack hug. I heard him laughing and trying to fight back, but eventually just hugged me back, which was a very good feeling. 


	18. Chapter 18

"Yes! Eight!" I cried, pulling away.  
"God Sherlock, calm yourself!" he exclaimed.  
"We've got chronological order here, seven and eight." Mrs. Hudson said happily. Irene must have gotten a seven then haven't the faintest idea how though. I sat next to John on the couch, leaving my food to celebrate with him. Even though he tried to pretend it was just a number, I could tell he was secretly proud for doing so well.  
"I guess hacking stuff up worked after all." He shrugged. I wanted to hug him again with this blind happiness I had, but obviously I doubted that would go over well with the others, it would only make more suspicion. Irene didn't look too happy with her score, but I honestly couldn't care less about what was happening to her. For her, the games couldn't come sooner, but for John I wanted this moment to last forever. I was totally aware of our arms pressed together and my head so close to his I could probably lean it on his shoulder.  
"This is fabulous you two! Absolutely fabulous, those are the highest scores in a while!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. John smiled shyly, as if not wanting all this positive attention. I felt like a proud parent when my kid came home with straight A's on his report card.  
"And now for the interviews I suppose." Molly sighed.  
"Not nearly as difficult." I assured. They just looked at me as if reminding me of my past, making me scowl.  
"Would you stop bringing that up! Please and thank you." I hissed. John just laughed, he must've found it funny in some way, but then again, they all did.  
"Sorry, too funny to ignore." Molly admitted. I frowned, usually I expect niceness from her, and this wasn't what I'd call very nice.  
"I think…" Mrs. Hudson started.  
"I swear, if we do another rehearsal I will walk out of here." I pointed out.  
"I think we should get down to the stylists, the interviews are around five thirty to get everyone in." she corrected. I sighed, not bothering to mumble an apology. It was true; after all, I was completely done with interview stuff.  
"Oh good, more makeup." John said sarcastically.  
"Oh don't pretend, I bet you've been putting on eyeliner since." I pointed out.  
"It takes one to know one." he defended.  
"That doesn't even make sense." I laughed.  
"Do you guys know Sherlock owns _three_ hair brushes, and finds it necessary to bring them all with him?" John said to the group, making me blush and scowl. Molly tried to hide her laughter, and Mrs. Hudson looked away for a moment. I didn't have many embarrassing things to share about John, so I just kept my mouth shut, mortified.  
"Well, let's get going then." Mrs. Hudson decided. I got up first, almost stepping on my plate, which I had left on the floor. As John got up I just pushed him back into the couch, the best revenge for telling the hairbrush story. But he didn't see it as a threat, more of a joke, and he just laughed. We all loaded into the elevator, to go to the first place I've been since the parade other than the tribute center. I was jammed in the back corner, forced to only watch the back of John's head since Mrs. Hudson stood in the way of us. We loaded into the train from the station and rode down to the stylists. This time, no one sat down; they all knew we were only on for about three minutes. This day was going by too fast, the last day I had to actually spend time with John and it was traveling almost as fast as this train. We skidded to a stop outside the stylist's station, where there were more paparazzi than ever. This time they knew the tributes name's also, so instead of just calling look over here, they called for John, or for Irene. I stayed close by John, yet again, steering him away from the crazy fans. It seemed like yesterday I was walking in here for my interview outfit, still thinking the thing will not go as bad as evaluations. Well, I guess everyone got to see how wrong I was about that. We got inside the glass doors, and it was like a night and day change. The sound was cut off to soft music and peaceful chatting. I looked around, making sure Greg wasn't there. Unfortunately he was there, but he was talking to some other guy that I didn't recognize. We crept across to the washing place, the room where John and I stole the clothes back, and Mrs. Hudson opened the door, leading us into the room. The stylists were waiting for us with big smiles; they were some of the only ones who like it when the tributes come. Apparently it gives them someone to use their talents on or something like that.  
"John, you go to that chair and Irene to the other one." Mrs. Hudson decided.  
"We can keep our clothes on right?" John asked, very hopefully with a nervous glance to the three of us.  
"Yes dear, just come on over." a stylist said from the other end of the room. Both John and I exhaled breaths of relief, the awkwardness levels would've soared through the roof and beyond. Sara and Anthea, the two stylists, came over and started talking to the three of us about the outfits. Apparently they would be going for another light show thing, since it was an apparent success. I didn't hear much, but I guess they would use sequins that look just like the fabric to reflect back the stage lights and stuff. I had to admit that was a clever idea, these people really do waste a lot of their time on the outfits. Since they already had the measurements, John and Irene had to sit and get their hair and makeup all done fancy and that took a good two hours of miserable boredom. Once again I was in the chair, except this time that stupid magazine was gone, so I was forced to just sit there. I was forcing myself to pretend that this was all for the parade, and John and I still had something of a week to bond. The truth was hurting me more than I even thought it would, I didn't want John to die, I didn't want one single scratch to hurt him, I wanted to keep him with me in a blanket where no one could hurt him. But that was a fantasy; I knew that if John didn't show up to the games there would be worse consequences. They couldn't hurt him, but me, Molly, Mrs. Hudson; even his family would pay the price. I thought it might be worth it, god knows that I'd jump into those games instead of him just to save him from the horror in that arena. I knew that if I go back in there and win again that the psychological danger would be astronomical, I'd be having nightmare, hallucinations, paranoia, everything terrible under the sun. Finally when they were done in the hair and makeup, they stood on the podiums and apparently were unable to dress themselves. I politely looked away as they changed, and when I assumed they were don't I looked back. John looked breathtaking, standing on the podium with what appeared to be just a plain golden suit with a white shirt and black tie, but when he moved the gold reflected off the lights, giving him a more angelic type of look to him. Irene had a golden, flowing gown, also reflecting, but she didn't look nearly as good.  
"How do I look?" John asked me with a goofy smile.  
"Fantastic!" I said truthfully. John smiled modestly, but looked proud to be complemented like that.  
"You know what; we should go get some coffee!" I joked as loud as I could, to attract the attention of either Molly or Mrs. Hudson.  
"Don't you dare!" Molly hissed.  
"I will strap you to that chair!" Mrs. Hudson added. It was a bit unfortunate that both had heard me.  
"It was a joke! God." I pointed out; slouching a little bit in my chair, but John seemed to think the whole thing was funny. A little bit later, we were rushed off to the interview building, a special arena sort of thing made especially for tribute interviews. I thought the whole thing was a bit much, but I guess the Capital saw it as a good investment instead of giving money to the struggling districts. But, you know, who doesn't need a giant stadium? Sarcasm, again. The station's crowd made all the other ones look like two people, when we got off there were Peacekeepers keeping the crowd behind the yellow gates they put up. I really didn't see why Capital people loved the tributes, they literally had nothing special about them but they were just going to die soon.  
"I feel famous." John laughed. His smile really warmed my heart, even in these conditions. The stadium was dark, but we got to go back stage, where all of the other tributes were talking to their mentors and escorts and stylists that had come along. Some were giving us looks, most jealous, but some were disgusted, as if our outfit choices were ugly or something. I thought our tributes looked the best, even without my biased opinion. John looked a little bit pale, hearing the crowd talking through the stadium even from here.  
"Don't be nervous, you'll be fine." I assured. He muttered something about just being hungry, but I saw right through that. He forgot I was in his place a year ago, dreading going onto the stage and having to talk to Caesar, in front of the entire crowd, it was sickening.  
"They'll love you, I guarantee it." I insisted.  
"I'll mess up, somehow." he grumbled.  
"Hey, that's what you thought with the evaluations, and you got out with an eight." I pointed out. The music blasted in the stands and I heard the sound of Caesar laughing, so that must mean it's starting. John gulped at the sound of the music, obviously terrified.  
"John, come on, it's almost impossible to mess up as much as I did, and I ended up winning did I not?" I pointed out.  
"If you call winning nightmares and paranoia, yes." He agreed. I couldn't disagree with that; I guess he could piece together things better than I thought.  
"But I'm still alive." I pointed out. John nodded, not looking too sure about this. I looked around to make sure no one was watching us, they were all fussing over their own tributes, and Mrs. Hudson had wandered off somewhere to do escort stuff. I took one of his hands gently, holding it between both of mine and trying to look as positive as I could. His brown eyes looked beautiful with all of the golden makeup and clothes he had on, and it was difficult to not stare at them.  
"You'll do amazing, in the interview and in the games, because you don't know what you have in you until you have to use it."  
"I don't know what I have in me until some guy cuts me open." John corrected, and even though I was in serious deep talk mode I had to laugh.  
"See, you totally ruined the moment!" I protested. John smiled up at me, I may have ruined that one, but it was a lot better when he was laughing over when he was frowning. The district one boy walked onto the stage to thunderous applause, everyone loved the first couple, but after a while, once you get to Twelve, everyone kind of loses interest in the same couple of questions. Caesar does his best to keep everything exciting, but I was sure I saw a lot of people leave when I was up there before. The tributes slowly dispersed one at a time, cheering, talking, laughing, more cheering; it was a sort of pattern. The line got smaller and smaller, but I walked up with him, trying to cheer him up when his mood was down, and when he was confident I gave him tips and told him how good he was going to be. When the Eleven girl left for the stage, we could see the stand and the chairs. Caesar's hair stuck out like a sore thumb, he looked ridiculous laughing with the stupid white smile. I could feel John shaking slightly as the girl got up, and he was called on.  
"Do your best, you've got this!" I assured as he walked on stage. I ran to the viewing window, where all of the other mentors and escorts were sitting. I pushed through the crowd and watched him sit on the chair nervously, the crowd cheering a lot, but not nearly as much as they had been.  
"Very nice to meet you John." Caesar said, shaking his hand. "And might I say, you look truly radiant today." The crowd laughed at the stupid pun, and John cracked a nervous smile.  
"Well, uh, happy to be here, I guess." He muttered.  
"So, you're what, fifteen?" Caesar asked.  
"Sixteen." John corrected.  
"Sixteen, sorry. How does it feel to have a mentor only two years older than yourself?" he asked. I felt the eyes of the other mentors on me, and I felt my face get a little hot.  
"Well, Sherlock, he really understands everything I'm going through, he's more like my friend than my mentor, but I guess it's a bit odd that I saw him at school two years ago." John shrugged. I couldn't help smiling, he considered me his friend.  
"Do you think you can start a Victor streak in District Twelve?" Caesar asked.  
"Oh, god I hope so." John said with a nervous laugh. Apparently Caesar found it a lot funnier than John though, because he broke out laughing. I knew he just did that to get the crowd all excited, but it made John feel a little bit more confident I think. He was sitting up straight, like I told him to, so that was good news.  
"How about back home, any family watching this?" Caesar asked.  
"Ya, Mom, Dad, my sister Harriet." John waved out to the crowd, where I guess there was a camera, "Hi guys." He said with a nervous smile.  
"Now, you said you consider Mr. Holmes your friend, how do you think he'll be when you're in the games, considering he's been through it just the previous year?"  
"He'll probably be worried sick, but from what I can tell, he seems like a crier too." John laughed. This time Caesar didn't have to encourage the audience to laugh. I blushed a little bit; he just had to add that didn't he?  
"Has he cried in your presence before?" Caesar asked with amusement.  
"Not yet." John shrugged. Wrap it up John, that's enough about me.  
"Well, I wish you best of luck out there in the games, everyone, John Watson!" Caesar said, standing up and holding up one of his hands. John smiled nervously at the crowd before shaking Caesar's hand one last time and then walking off the stage. I met him at the door, and he looked so relieved, which a smile on his face.  
"Oh, so I'm a crier now?" I asked.  
"Don't deny it." he laughed. "How'd I do?" he asked. The crowd was now cheering for Irene as she stepped onto the stage.  
"You did great, but really, crier?" I asked again, trying to absorb the fact that the entire nation now thought I cried myself to sleep each night.  
"Oh be quiet, it lets them know you're human." he pointed out.  
"Of course I'm human; they don't need your stupid interview question to figure that out." I defended. Mrs. Hudson came over then, congratulating John and saying how great he did. The crowd was now laughing at something Irene must have said. I guess no one but Molly was really interested in what she had to say, I certainly wasn't.  
"That was some funny stuff you said about Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson added with a laugh.  
"Oh will you stop that!" I hissed.  
"Do you need a tissue dear?" she asked.  
"That is enough, thank you!"  
"I'm sorry about that, I didn't really know what was coming out of my mouth half the time." John insisted.  
"It's fine, there's probably been worse said." I assured. John just shrugged, but whatever he was going to say was lost to the cheering crowd. Irene walked into the room, and Mrs. Hudson rushed over to talk to her. Molly seemed to appear out of nowhere, congratulating Irene, who obviously didn't want to hear it.  
"I'm tired, let's go home." She decided, walking away from the two and smiling rather chillingly at me.  
"She is so weird." John hissed. I nodded in agreement.  
"Well, I guess there's nothing else we need to do here, do you want to get on the train then?" Mrs. Hudson asked the two of us. I nodded, and John agreed that he would need a good night sleep. The last goodnight sleep both of us might have. We rode the short distance to the Tribute Center, which was just starting to regain its population, the people all returning from the interviews. Greg said hi to me from across the room, but I just waved halfheartedly and kept walking to the elevator. I knew this was going to be the moment, tonight, I would tell him, tonight nothing between us would be the same. We loaded into the elevator, riding it up to the Twelfth and final floor, grabbing quick bites to eat before breaking off into our rooms for the night. Molly and Mrs. Hudson sat on the couch, and Irene disappeared into her room. I went into my room, and to my slight surprise John wasn't tagging along. I shut the door, but left it unlocked in case he would come. I changed into my pajamas and sat on my bed, taking deep breaths of nerves. How was I going to do this? He'll probably be terrified; he might even walk out of here, who knows? The time passed and still the door didn't open, I was getting the feeling that this might be easier than I previously thought, he might not even show up. After a while I just gave up, maybe he was scared, maybe he was expecting me to come to his room, although he never told me I could. Nevertheless, I flipped the switch on the light and pulled the covers over me, trying to fall asleep. I knew I couldn't fall asleep, not when I knew that this was the last night that I had the comfort of knowing John was safe, that he wouldn't die in a blink of an eye. I tried to make myself forget about that, it was just another night in my room, in my old house, with the cold wind blowing through and the squeaky floorboards when my dad walked around. A little bit later I heard the door open, casting a streak of light through the darkness of my room. It was John, I could tell by his silhouette.  
"Are you okay?" I asked, fearing that he was scared or even sleep walking. He didn't answer; he just walked over to the side of the bed and slipped under the covers with me, laying his head on my chest and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. My stomach twisted in a knot and my heart started to beat three times faster. I knew John could hear that too, his ear was pressed almost right on top of my heart. At first I had no idea what to do, I felt like I wasn't able to move, but then I regained control of myself, putting my arm comfortingly around him and holding him close, like a live human teddy bear.  
"I'm terrified." He admitted in a weak voice. It was a voice I didn't recognize, it was fearful and broken. His confidence had gone, even though he had done everything he possibly could to win these games, he was convinced he would die.  
"It's okay, I'm here." I assured, finding one of his hands with my free hand and holding it in an attempt to comfort him. I felt his breath on my chest, I felt his body heat next to mine, it was terrifying yet beautiful. I had no idea what I was supposed to do now, fall asleep, keep talking to him? I doubted there was anything I could say to convince him that the games would be fine, because we both knew that the games were nothing but fine. They were starvation, dehydration, freezing, disease, and murder wrapped up with a nice little Capital bow. I could feel his shaking, he was terrified, and that didn't improve my attempted positivity.  
"John?" I muttered.  
"Hm?" he hummed in response. I took a deep breath, not knowing if I should do this or not.  
"I love you." I said in a very quiet voice. I prepared for him to run, to kick me and run for his life, but he didn't. But he didn't do that, in fact, he didn't do anything. His breath slowed down and his grip on my hand loosened, he must have been asleep. I smiled to myself, well that figures. The one time I actually try to express feelings, and he falls asleep. I guess that's what I get.


	19. Chapter 19

I barely slept that night; I could admit I was terrified for the poor tribute asleep on my chest. I didn't want him to die, he couldn't die, I wouldn't allow it. I looked over at the clock, 5:02 in the morning. It was the last 5:02 I'd ever spend with John. Even though I knew it shouldn't be a memorable time, it meant nothing to either of us, but at the moment, as the two changed to a three, I wished it would go back. John still wasn't moving, but his breath had even out to a normal rate. My guess was that he was awake, but didn't want to be, he was trying to keep his eyes closed as long as possible so that he didn't have to actually wake up. I felt my eyes get hot again, but I blinked the possible tears away. Not yet. Suddenly he gripped my hand and his eyes flew open.  
"Don't make me go!" he exclaimed in a sudden outburst, burying his face in my neck and hugging me. I tried not to act as though he was strangling me, but in reality his hug was crushing my lungs.  
"You'll be okay John, don't worry." I assured, hugging his back and trying to calm him down.  
"Sherlock…" he didn't finish that thought; he left off with my name.  
"It's okay." I said in a sort of whisper.  
"No, no it's not, I'm going to die." He muttered, muffling his voice against my skin. I felt tears splash against me, which wasn't helping my no crying rule much. I patted his back, trying to calm him back down.  
"Please don't make me go in there." He begged, "Please, I'll do anything!"  
"I'm so sorry John, but I can't interfere or they'll kill me."  
"Well, at least I'll have company up there." He said. I didn't smile at that, I knew it was a joke, but there was nothing funny about it. I wanted to promise him everything would be okay, that he'd live through this horrible experience, but I couldn't promise anything.  
"Sherlock please don't make me go." John begged, more tears falling.  
"I have to John, I have to." I defended. He cuddled, if possible, even closer, now his forehead was against my chin and his chin was pressing down on my Adam's apple. He took a deep, rattling breath, as if trying to remind himself that he was still alive. I should've been thrilled about how close we were, there was absolutely no personal space whatsoever, but I knew this only meant that he felt safe around me. It wasn't romantic, it was terror. If this night was just another night, the most we'd do was hold hands. I didn't want John to be scared, he should be, but I didn't want him to. He was too perfect, too innocent to be thrown in there and told to kill, but even the best of kids have to become murderers just because Mrs. Hudson happened to pick their name out of that glass bowl. I ran my fingers through his hair, it calmed me down, and so I might as well try it on him. It actually seemed to work, he stopped shaking for a little bit at least. His hair was soft and smooth from the fancy capital shampoo, but golden flakes from the interview still gleamed on my hand.  
"Are you okay now?" I asked cautiously, scared he was going to burst out crying again. He took another deep breath, controlling himself.  
"I guess I have to be." He agreed.  
"Do you want to get some breakfast?" I asked.  
"No." he said truthfully. He repositioned himself to sit his head on my chest again, holding my hand. I smiled at him, trying to make the best of this situation.  
"You'll be okay John." I repeated. I kept saying that, I kept lying to him and to myself, because no one is ever okay in those games, before and after.  
"I just want to stay here for the rest of my life." He muttered. I gazed at the clock; my precious 5:02 had become 5:13. We would have to be up at around seven or so, I hoped John would fall back asleep just for strength, but I knew he probably wouldn't now that he seemed awake. I didn't know what time I had to send him into the tube, I know they're allowed one person from their team to send them in though, and I really hoped that person would be me.  
"Can you give me any more tips?" he asked suddenly. I thought about that, things I really needed in the games.  
"Don't light fires unless absolutely necessary, and never at night, and if you have a really bad injury clean it out with water and tie it off with a tourniquet. Never drink water unless you did your best to filter it." I decided.  
"I'm scared Sherlock." He admitted, but I could figure that out by myself really.  
"You'll be fine."  
"You're lying."  
"It's what I need to hear; both of us need to hear it." I pointed out.  
"What if I don't make it, what will you do?" he asked.  
"I guess I'll cross that bridge if I come to it, but I really hope I don't."  
"But really, don't get into drugs or something." he insisted.  
"A little late for that."  
"What do you mean?" he asked.  
"Under the bed, stored in a shoe, enough morphine to last a couple of weeks." I admitted. Instead of being the concerned parent anyone would be, he just chuckled a little bit.  
"Well, it figures. Do you really get that messed up afterwards?"  
"I was one of the worst, I assume, but it's not all money and fame." I didn't know why I was telling him this, I knew I should be trying to motivate him to win, but in all fairness the prize was your life, and that was worth fighting for.  
"If I come out, me and you are going to beat the crap out of the school bullies." He decided. I couldn't help laughing at that.  
"All right, you've got a deal." I agreed. Sounded pretty good to me, not only did the both of us get fame and fortune, we could have the satisfaction of beating up the jerks that made our childhood miserable.  
"If you get out, you better stick around with me, I'm not just going to be that weird neighbor." I added. "Of course." John nodded. I smiled, but it wasn't a good sentiment, sure we'd be neighbors, but he still had to live. John started to shake a little bit more in the silence, but I just interlocked our fingers and he seemed to calm down just a little bit more.  
"Do you think the others are up?" he asked.  
"I doubt Mrs. Hudson even went to sleep. She gets more nervous than the tributes." I admitted.  
"Did you sleep?" he asked.  
"No, of course not." I muttered, as if it was something to be embarrassed about.  
"I did, believe it or not." He admitted. I knew, only because he missed my love confession. Idiot.  
"Well, if you can fall asleep again that would be good." I pointed out.  
"Not a chance now." He muttered.  
"Do you think the other tributes are this worried?" he asked.  
"Probably, but they're probably alone, not cuddled up with their mentor." I pointed out.  
"Well then they're missing out aren't they?" he said with a small smile. I nodded with agreement, the y really were missing out. If I had needed anything during my days here, it was a friend, someone that I could curl up with and tell them just how terrified I actually was. Molly was a kind of hug and tell your feelings type, but for some reason I always pushed her away.  
"What did you say, I remember you saying something, but I didn't really hear." He admitted. Oh.  
"I just said I wanted you to do your best in the games." I shrugged. For some reason I didn't want to tell him right now, it wasn't the time, the time was spoiled by sleep apparently. He hummed in agreement against my chest. I wondered what he'd do if I actually did him. We were both drunk on fear and sleep, so I doubted he'd react like he probably should.  
"How scared were you?" he asked.  
"A lot more scared than you, remember I got a four." I pointed out.  
"I guess I'm worth two of you then." John laughed.  
"You're worth ten of me." I assured, dead serious. He didn't answer, but I could almost sense his smile, making the room seem a lot brighter, even though there was no light coming from anywhere. We sat there for a little while after that, just sitting there. I was trying to burn this memory into my brain, because I knew it would be ending soon. All of this would be ending soon; the worst and best days of my entire life would be just memory.  
"Should we get up now?" John asked.  
"It's your choice." I pointed out. He nodded, but didn't make a move to get up. He just lay there, as if he wanted me to be the one to push him off of me. But, to my relief or disappointment I couldn't tell, he rolled off of the bed, landing on his feet and leaving me chilly from the missing source of body heat. I got to my feet and pulled my robe on, clasping the necklace around my neck and searching the closet for my clothes.  
"What do I have to wear?" he asked, his voice shaking. I wanted to give him a hug, but he was halfway across the room.  
"You can wear anything you want, then you change right before you go it." I said, picking out my purple shirt again. I guess I'm not one for new things. I didn't want to leave John out here, but I didn't want to change in front of him, so I just dropped my clothes on the bed and led him out to breakfast with me. I felt him grab my hand, whether in fear of what's in the living room or fear of what's coming. My guess is the latter. Either way, it seemed to both of us that it didn't matter what anyone else thought, we'd hold hands as much as we want for as long as we could. Mrs. Hudson and Molly were in the living room again, the TV turned on, repeating the interviews and parades and trying to guess the fan favorites. Mrs. Hudson looked nervous, her face was pale and her foot wouldn't stop tapping.  
"Good morning dears." She said, but her usual cheeriness was left somewhere else. I knew this was the last time she'd say that to both of us at the same time. Molly seemed to notice before Mrs. Hudson that our hands were interlocked, and she just gave me a bit of a smile, but I ignored her. There was nothing to smile about right now, nothing at all.  
"How'd you sleep?" Molly asked.  
"Okay." John shrugged.  
"Miserable." I said truthfully.  
"I'm with Sherlock on this one. It's a miracle Irene isn't up yet." Mrs. Hudson decided.  
"I doubt she's even nervous." John muttered as we both sat on the couch. This time he sat very close to me, as if he was a scared child that just wanted to be close to their mom. John watched the TV, but then looked away quickly.  
"Could you please turn that off?" he asked. The TV clicked off almost as soon as he said it. John shivered even though the room was nice and warm, and I just gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. No one seemed to want to talk, I knew they were all wondering what's going on, and Mrs. Hudson, who loved schedules and torturing everyone with them, looking bursting to tell us.  
"How are you feeling then?" Molly asked John.  
"I'm very nervous." He said simply, taking a deep breath.  
"I understand, that's perfectly normal, I'm sure everyone in this building is nervous." Molly assured.  
"Not Irene." I pointed out.  
"Well you don't know that yet dear." Mrs. Hudson objected. John just mumbled something even I didn't catch, probably something about Irene. Why couldn't it still be 5:02, with him snuggled into my chest, still pretending to be asleep?  
"You'll do great in the games John, I only got a seven when I was in there." Molly pointed out. John just shook his head, as if not believing anything of himself. He had the best score from District Twelve in a while, and still he was convinced he was going to die. I felt like he needed a hug, or I just needed a hug, either way I really couldn't hug him in front of both of these people.  
"Happy Hunger Games everyone!" Irene's triumphant voice made John get even paler. She sounded simply thrilled to be here, unlike everyone else. Her hair and makeup was already done, and she was wearing a tight black dress that made me want to throw up.  
"Someone's happy." Mrs. Hudson observed, not even trying to hide the coolness in her voice.  
"Well of course, today's the day is it not?" Irene pointed out.  
"Yes, it's so great to see that you're not scared." Molly said with a smile.  
"I'm not scared, the crowd will love me, I'll be the victor this year." She said, sounding very confident.  
"Even the sponsors can't save you from a tribute with a knife." I pointed out, not exactly trying to ruin her mood, but then again trying to get her a lot less excited.  
"No, but they can give me a gun." She said obviously.  
"It'll only kill if you know what to do with it." I objected.  
"Okay Sherlock, that's enough." Mrs. Hudson snapped, which left the two of us just glaring at each other. Irene's angry look changed to a confident smile in the blink of an eye, making me, for some reason, even madder. The Avoxes arrived with breakfast, setting the platters on the table like they did every day. They didn't seem bothered by the day or the upcoming games, they actually seemed quite relieved to get us all out.  
"Let's have a nice big breakfast okay?" Mrs. Hudson suggested. John didn't say anything, I knew from experience that before the games it feels like you're going to throw up if you eat something, but you actually had to force yourself to, because this was the last meal you had until you had to fend for yourself. John and I walked over to the table apprehensively, suddenly the food didn't look so much as a feast, but it was more tauntingly. I saw Irene's eyes flash down to our interlocked hands, and I just smiled at her, but she didn't show any reaction. We sat in front of the food and Mrs. Hudson said an extra-long prayer for good luck and safety in the games. I even added in some in my head, wanting John to be safe and win, I hope it made a difference. This time I didn't eat, but I made sure John did, loading up his plate with the things I thought looked healthiest, like potatoes, eggs, and fruit. But he didn't eat much of it; he seemed to be forcing himself just to pick up his fork. And to add to all of that, we were both working with only one hand, we were still holding hands underneath the table. 


	20. Chapter 20

"Sherlock how come you're not eating?" Molly asked. I just glared at her to shut her mouth, and she went back to merely picking at her pancakes. Irene was the only one who seemed to have an appetite, filling up her plate and seemingly eating at a faster pace than she had before. She seemed to be the opposite of a human being, mad when she should be happy and happy when everyone else is cowering in fear. John set down his fork, most of his food still sitting on the plate, but I wasn't going to force him to eat it. I only made him drink a whole lot of juice, as much as he could, because water would be the most dangerous task in the games. If you don't find some, you will die, it's that simple. When even Irene was done, Mrs. Hudson excused us back to our rooms to get ready, and that was the first time John and I separated since we fell asleep last night. It wasn't a long period of time, but I felt empty the minute he was out of my sight. I closed my door and took a very quick shower, changing my clothes and freshening up as best as I could. After my hair had been dried in that extreme hair drier, I walked out of the bathroom, shivering slightly from the change in temperature. My silver necklace was cold against my chest, buried under my clothes where no one could see it. I sat in my room, not bringing myself to stare at any of the pictures on the walls, so I lay on my back and looked at the ceiling, trying to block everything that was going on out of my mind. John came in a little bit later, making me escape my happy little dream land and sit up to talk to him.  
"Hey." He muttered. He was wearing a simple tan tee shirt and jeans, which was so normal it almost didn't fit him. I didn't say anything; I just took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say.  
"Follow birds and mud to get to water, it travels downhill; usually there will be animals and a lot of plants around it. Always boil it or something to get the bacteria out." I blurted. John nodded, marking my words down in his mental list.  
"I'll remember that." he decided.  
"You better." I said with a small, weak laugh. No humor at all, it was just to try to cheer him up. He sat down next to me, leaning against the headboard and taking my hand once again. It felt natural now, like every time our hands touched the other half of me appeared.  
"You'll be okay without me right?" he asked.  
"I'll do my best." I muttered.  
"Come on, I'll be back before you know it, and then we can be neighbors and beat up the bullies." He assured, rubbing his thumb against my palm.  
"I should be the one telling you it's going to be okay." I pointed out.  
"But you need reassuring too." he objected.  
"I guess you've got a point." I agreed. John leaned up against me, putting his head on my shoulder. I sighed, putting my other arm around him and holding him closer. I didn't want him to leave, I didn't want either of us to leave, I wanted that bloody clock to change back to 5:02, in simpler times, where all I had to do was lay there. We didn't say anything, which was kind of nice; we just sat there, loving each other's company, loving each other, even if we couldn't admit it yet. I don't know how long we sat there together, but when the door opened and Mrs. Hudson stuck her head in, I knew that it had been too short.  
"I'm sorry, but it's time we get going." She said in forced words, her voice cracking in sorrow. John's hand gripped mine so tight I thought I'd lose circulation.  
"It's okay John, it's okay." I assured, but I didn't believe myself either. Slowly we got to our feet, walking out the door and back into the kitchen. I forced him to drink another glass of water, but he could only drink half before putting it down. Irene was already leaning on the wall next to the elevator, looking impatient.  
"Come on, I don't want to be late!" she groaned.  
"Irene be quiet!" I hissed, making her look as if I had seriously offended her in some way. I didn't care, I didn't care if those were my last words to her ever, she was being a serious pain and I was done with it. John was terrified and she couldn't give a crap, she just wanted her fame and money and she was a despicable person. Mrs. Hudson loaded us all in the elevator and we rode down, John and Irene's last trip. John was leaning against the wall, as if not able to stand without tripping over himself. The elevator dinged, a soft, pleasant sound that just made me want to scream. Nothing should be soft and pleasant, absolutely nothing. We stepped out into the lobby, which was packed with tributes and mentors. Some were crying, some were white faced and looking as if they'd pass out, and others were looking almost as calm and collective as Irene, which worried me a little bit. We ignored everyone, loading into our train and riding down to the entrance to the arena. When the train stopped John looked like he was about to throw up, but stepped off of the train and into the station. I remembered this place; I remember it was what I had thought I'd ever see of the outside world. The place of all of my nightmares, the place of dread and hate, we were in the arena. There was a lobby, which wasn't nearly as cheerful as the one in the tribute center. All of John and Irene's stylists were present, ready to dress them for the games, even they looked nervous.  
"Come back here and we'll get you dressed." Sara said softly to John, but he only gripped my hand tighter, like a scared child clinging to his mother.  
"Go on John, I'll be right here for when you get back." I assured. He looked at me desperately, not wanting to be separated, but slowly I felt his grip release and he walked back into another room with Sara. I took a deep breath, looking around the cement room in which we were. There was a small desk in the front and two sliding metal doors, the separate rooms were the tubes where. I knew the above us was the arena, and around us were eleven other rooms identical to this one, where the tributes, escorts, and mentors were all saying goodbye. I heard the beeping sound of the tracker going into his arm from here, making me wince even though I was perfectly fine.  
"Are you okay?" Molly asked softly.  
"I'm fine." I snapped, but we both knew that was a big lie. Nothing about this entire situation was okay, my one love was about to fight for his life while me and the rest of the nation only watch. John came out a little bit later, dressed in a short sleeved tight leather shirt and black leather pants. He had boots on, boots meant for traveling on rocks and stuff. My first guess would be rocky shores, but they'd have more water tight clothes, so now it was leaning more towards volcanic. I sighed, that couldn't be good.  
"Tributes, ten minutes, tributes, ten minutes." An announcer said through a scratchy intercom, the voice of my nightmares. John took a deep breath, looking towards Mrs. Hudson and Molly.  
"Well, I guess this is goodbye." He muttered, finding my hand again.  
"You'll do great, I'll do my best to make sure both of you have investors." Molly promised.  
"I have confidence in you John; I really think we might have another winner this year." Mrs. Hudson assured. That was almost identical to what she had said to me exactly one year ago, so I supposed everyone got that speech. For some reason though, out of all of them, they did have a winner with me. it was weird, a whole year ago I was the tribute, it felt like ages. Irene stepped out of the dressing room, checking her hair and makeup in a dusty mirror, as if sponsors would really be making sure she looked okay.  
"I guess we should get ready." I muttered, looking towards the sliding metal door. John didn't do anything, but somehow he made his feet walk, very slowly, over to the door. It opened automatically, and we both stepped inside, hearing it close behind us. It was much nicer in here, white walls and tile floors, but the tube in the middle ruined the feeling. I remember standing in there, watching the door close and Mrs. Hudson fade out of sight as I rose to the surface. I took a deep breath, taking both of John's hands and turning to face him.  
"You'll be brilliant." I assured in a weak voice, almost a croak.  
"I'll do my best." He muttered, staring at the tube with horror.  
"Look at me John, don't think about it, just look at me." I instructed. His hazel eyes met mine, and I felt tears welling up, I didn't want this to be goodbye, this can't be goodbye. "I want you to give it your all, never give up, push through, because you're not just doing it for yourself, you're doing it for your family, and for your friends, and, for me." I said, my voice dropping off. I let go of his hands and unstrapped my Twelve necklace with shaky hands.  
"No…" John started, but I was determined.  
"This reminded me of home; it gave me something to fight for." I said, placing it around his neck and clasping it. "Just, remember me, and if you need something to encourage you, just think of me."  
"Thank you Sherlock." He said, tears in his eyes as well.  
"Tributes five minutes, tributes five minutes." The speaker said, making John look even more panicked. We had five more minutes together, only five more minutes.  
"You were the best mentor and friend I could've ever asked for, and you helped me get through really tough times. I know that it's your job, but all the seconds I spent with you were the best seconds of my life." He decided. I took a deep breath again, trying to tell myself just to breathe, he wasn't dead yet.  
"You helped me through just as much." I pointed out. "I tried to tell you before, but I just couldn't, throughout the course of the week, I fell in love with you." I admitted, feeling the tears let loose, falling down my face uncontrollably. John didn't say anything, he reached up and wrapped his hands around my neck  
"I know." He said simply, close to my ear. I hugged him back, knowing this very much could be the last time I ever hugged him. He pulled away, but instead of stepping back, he looked into my eyes and ever so softly pressed a kiss onto my lips. I thought my heart would just about stop, but I didn't know if it was from happiness or sadness. Now I knew not only could I lose him, but I had a chance after all to be with him. If he wasn't in these games we could've had a life together, we might have had the chance to be happy. Now both of us were crying silently, hugging again.  
"Tributes, one minute, tributes one minute." The announcer said. John gripped me as if I was a life line, the only thing holding him to this earth, that if he let go he'd fall into a void of nothing ness. The tube was open, ready for him to step in and rise up to the arena.  
"Fifty seconds." The announcer said.  
"You need to go, I'm so sorry John, you need to go." I said, my tears streaming down even more. John let go of me reluctantly.  
"Forty seconds."  
"Please John." I begged. He walked over to the tube, his hand brushing away from mine, and stopped outside of it.  
"I'll be okay." he said, as if making himself believe it.  
"You'll be okay, please, do your best, I know you can win this game John, I know you can." I insisted to his back.  
"Thirty seconds." The announcer taunted.  
"Sherlock I don't want to go." He muttered.  
"I know, but you have to."  
"I don't want to go." He said louder, his voice cracking yet again.  
"Twenty."  
"You'll be fine." I assured to both of us.  
"Fifteen."  
"John, you'll be fine." I repeated.  
"I'll be fine." He agreed.  
"Ten." He stepped into the tube, turning to face me. His face was streaked with tears.  
"You'll be okay." I said yet again.  
"I don't want to do this Sherlock." He muttered.  
"Five."  
"You'll be okay!" I repeated. The glass door started to close, the last moment of space between us. I heard him scream my name, but it was cut off, the glass was soundproof. He looked terrified, broken, pounding on the glass and saying something I couldn't hear. My tears continued streaming, and the tube started rising.  
"You'll be okay!" I yelled. He banged on the glass and I saw him slowly disappear from my view, the last glimpse of him, what might be my last ever, he was banging on the glass and screaming as if his life depended on it. The tube was gone, along with John.


	21. Chapter 21

I don't quite remember falling to the floor; I don't remember screaming at him to come back, I don't remember trying to crawl up the tube after him. I know Molly and Mrs. Hudson were trying to calm me down, I remember pushing them away. I wouldn't let that stupid president take John; I wouldn't let him take my John. I woke up in my room with my spotty memories, the window open for the first time since I've gotten here. I was hugging my pillow and my head lay on the flat mattress, which automatically made my neck hurt. I didn't wait around, I didn't do the classic lying in bed for a while after you're unconscious, I immediately ran out the door and into the living room, where the only two members of the house, Molly and Mrs. Hudson, where sitting on the couch with a family size box of tissues. Mrs. Hudson had tea in her hands, but she wasn't sipping it, she was watching the TV, where they were showing the One boy fighting the Eleven girl. She was actually holding her own with a curved cavalry sword, and eventually he just gave up, moving on to pick off the weaker tributes.  
"Sherlock!" Molly said suddenly. She didn't look too tear stained, so I'm guessing they were both alive for now.  
"Is he okay?" I asked weakly, rubbing my arm where a dull pain was flaring.  
"He made it out of the bloodbath with a backpack and a sword he picked up from a body." Mrs. Hudson said simply.  
"Who's body?" I asked.  
"The boy from Five." Molly said sadly. Greg's tribute, Jeff, I think, in the end I guess they were sort of allies.  
"Irene's safe too, before you ask, she actually managed to worm her way in with the careers." Molly added.  
"I actually wasn't too worried about her." I pointed out. I sat on the couch, wiping at my cheeks, which felt crusty with the tears.  
"What happened?" I asked. The terrain was black rocks all around, there were little bushes spread out, but it seemed like volcanic had been the outcome. That wasn't good, food would be hard to find, shelter would be difficult, and water would be near impossible.  
"It was actually quite scary, you started screaming and sobbing and tried to break the glass in the tube." Mrs. Hudson said.  
"It's all kind of a blackout." I admitted.  
"We had to get the peacekeepers in, they sedated you." Molly added. That would be why my arm hurt then. I watched the screen, the Six girl crawl under some rocks to avoid detection. I knew it wouldn't show John for a while since he had escaped. People wanted to see the blood and violence, not people running. Irene showed up for a minute, helping the Two girl try to take the Ten boy down. She didn't look scared, she barely even looked nervous, in fact she looked delighted to be killing off the competition, I found it sickening.  
"She kissed me." I said simply, making both of them look at me like I was absolutely crazy.  
"She what!?" Molly asked with shock.  
"I didn't want to, but she did. Just thought I'd clear that up." I shrugged. It was never really a secret, but it was on my mind at the moment.  
"Well that's quite unfortunate." Mrs. Hudson decided. I would've jokingly commented that she actually said something that could be taken as mean about another person, but now wasn't the time for smiles and laughs. It was miserable. There was silence after that, I guess I spoiled the mood, now we watched Irene and the Two girl finally get a good hit on the boy, striking his neck and hacking him down. The cannon didn't boom until the bloodbath was officially over, which might take a while. I could only hope these pathetic tributes would keep the Careers occupied for a while, giving John enough time to get as much distance away from them.  
"It's volcanic, we figured that out." Molly said finally.  
"I know." I muttered. I didn't want to say how John and I figured it out already, how I told him exactly how to survive this. I didn't even want to say his name in fear I'd start crying.  
"Should we be out trying to find some investors?" I asked.  
"We'll wait until after the bloodbath, tomorrow preferably. They don't want to put money into a tribute that can't even last the night." Molly said simply. I tried not to think that John might not. He would, he would survive, he'll kill those careers and win this bloody game. I watched as more and more blood spilt, people dying, screaming, the Careers completely wiping out whoever was trying to get their hands on the Cornucopia. I didn't know why it was called the Cornucopia; in fact I thought it was pretty much the opposite. If I was right, a long time ago they were supposed to hold food and stuff for peace offerings, now they held weapons for the death of innocent kids. I wanted to tap into John's mind right now, see what he sees, feel what he feels, I wanted to help him, guide him through this game like I did and help him win. But I knew that not only was that impossible, but completely against the rules and would get all of us executed. The Capital took these games way too seriously, not only were they for peace, but they rolled in thousands to millions of dollars each game. People flocked to bars, they invested, they bought signs and banners to support their favorites, it was pathetic. Even as a kid I was against the entire thing.  
"Did you tell John?" Molly asked suddenly. I looked at her with a sad expression. I didn't want to talk about him now; I didn't want to think about him, I knew it would only amount in sadness. How she took my answer I couldn't tell, but she left the conversation. Caesar was reading off the list of the already dead while more were dying, just for people who had missed it. The list was quite long, which was both good and bad. It was good since there were less people to come after John, it was bad because the Careers would start hunting them down, Irene knew John was still alive most likely, and it gave him less choices for allies and less people to actually do the killing. The longer John could keep away the better, but I knew how traumatizing it was to take a life. It was what had caused most of my drug addiction and sleep deprives, it was the fact that I had been responsible for the death of another human, all he had wanted to do was survive. I could never get over that, no matter how many times I told myself that it was defending myself, and that was how it worked, I could never stop thinking he was just like me. I didn't want John to have to wrestle with those questions over and over again, just like I had to. This whole day seemed to only consist of downfalls; it was like a day dedicated to beating up on me, emotionally and physically. Mrs. Hudson left to go somewhere; I didn't look to find out, but a couple of minutes later she was back with two more tea cups and a plate of biscuits. Molly liked long talks and trust, and Mrs. Hudson thought tea and biscuits solved any problem life threw at you. I looked at the clock, it was 12:38, I had been out for a couple of hours, surprisingly. I had missed lunch, but I wasn't hungry, I didn't think I'd be able to eat all week just with nerves. That was another reason I had been successful in the games, I didn't need much food, water, or sleep, unlike all of the other tributes. They were starving to death when it was just like another day for me, eating simple leaves and roots and the occasional berry was enough to fulfill me for a day or two. Molly sipped her tea halfheartedly, she looked nervous not for herself, but probably for me. I seriously doubted that she was worried for Irene, that girl was pretty evil, but I knew she didn't want John to go down. She knew it was a rare thing for me to even have feelings, but someone I loved and sobbed over was someone who obviously had to be saved. I guess she'd come to accept that I'd never like her back. We sat on the couch until dinner arrived with the Avoxes, who brought less food than normal, considering we were two less people. I knew they would be cleaning the tribute's rooms down completely, which upset me. I didn't want to see all the proof that John had even been alive sanitized and removed. I didn't eat, but I sat at the table, saying the prayer and leaning on my elbows, watching the TV from here. The sun was starting to set; I hoped John was working on finding a nice safe place to sleep. I hope he was smart enough to pile some rocks around him, or roll in dust to camouflage the red stripes on the outfit. He had a sword, that was good, and a backpack must have all the necessary things to last at least a night. The only thing I was too worried about was water; it was very difficult to find in a volcanic terrain, the land would be very dry and barren. He must have some crackers or something in the bag, but those would only last so long without water.  
"Are you going to eat something dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked. I didn't answer or do anything to show that I had heard her. I could almost sense a glance being passed by the two of them though, trying to tell each other telepathically not to disturb me, that I was emotionally unstable and suffering a loss. I hated how they were thinking negative, how I was thinking negative. It was almost like we had no confidence in him at all, like we were already having a gravestone engraved. I didn't want to see him again in a wooden box, laid to rest with his wounds still visible. As the sun sunk most of the way the cannons went off. I didn't count them until it was too late, but there were a lot. I could only hope John wasn't included. I went back to the couch, if they were tallying the dead then they'd start to show the living, just for confirmation that the actually were still alive. It started with the six girl, who was suffering a twisted ankle or something, tying a splint off with a piece of wood and a scrap of her shirt. Then it showed the Eleven girl, who was now hiding, like the others, in the crook of rocks. I guess she had made it out after all. Then, to my relief and excitement, John was shown. He was poking around another bed of black rocks, clearing out an overhang with his sword. When he was finished cleaning, the blade was covered in cobwebs and apparently a spider had tried to escape. He was now whacking it with the blade and jumping around, trying to step on it. In my opinion he was making way too much noise, but it brought a smile to my face when I thought it was impossible. After the spider was dead, John huddled in the shadows, dropping his bag under the rock and then the screen changed. I wanted it to go back to him, I needed to know that he was eating, that he was well hidden and getting the right amount of sleep. It changed to some guy from seven, who was still looking for a hiding place. He seemed paranoid, looking around and behind him almost every other second. It skipped around for a while, Caesar talking about upcoming events and advertising for companies and stuff. Most of the tributes were hidden now, except for the Seven guy, who was still looking around. It showed the Careers now on the hunt, Irene in their midst with a long sword and a dagger on her belt. They were all geared up, backpacks filled with as much food and supplies as they could carry and weapons enough to hold their own rebellion.  
"So he's alright now?" Molly asked, sitting next to me on the couch.  
"He got in a fight with a spider, but that was it." I said with a slight laugh.  
"And Irene?" she asked.  
"See for yourself." I muttered, gesturing to the screen, which now showed the Careers hunting down a poor girl, who was running for her life. Irene was among them, laughing and yelling at her tauntingly.  
"Well I guess she made it in their ranks then." Molly muttered.  
"That's not a good thing." I debated.  
"It could be, until they're down to just them." She sighed. There was some silence.  
"So, what happened, back before he went in?" she asked.  
"We said goodbye." I said simply, squeezing my eyes shut to avoid more tears, if I had any left.  
"Did you tell him?" she asked, the same question from before. I nodded silently, taking a deep breath and remembering the kiss. God, if only he weren't in the games, but it was still the best moment in my life.  
"And then what?" she asked, a little bit quieter.  
"I don't want to talk about it." I hissed, really not wanting to. I didn't need her all in my love life, even if it was close to being nonexistent, just the fact that she knew I liked him was much more than she should know. I tried to look away from the screen as the girl went down, the boy from One getting her in the back of the head with a well-aimed throw with a knife. A cannon went off, marking the girl's death. All of the sudden the anthem went off, and the blue capital logo flashed in the sky. The names and headshots of the dead flashed on the screen in order from districts. One, two, and three were all safe since it started with four; the only one I recognized was Jeff. The logo flashed once again, and it was over as soon as it started, leaving the arena even more quiet and dark. The screen changed again, and it showed John in a green night vision camera, huddled under the rocks and rubbing the necklace I had given him with his thumb. 


	22. Chapter 22

"I don't know where these cameras are, but I know they're here somewhere." He said, the first time I had heard him talk in a while. It was so falsely comforting, but I wanted to scream at him to shut up. The Careers were hunting, he really shouldn't be talking. "Well, Sherlock, I made it, roughly speaking. I hope you're okay, in fact I don't even know if you're watching this, so Molly or Mrs. Hudson, make him turn on the bloody TV or something." John said with a small smile. His voice was down to a whisper now, which was better. I felt Molly's eyes on me, I didn't know where Mrs. Hudson was, but if she was out here she'd probably be crying. "It feels good to hear my own voice." John said, looking down at the necklace.  
"He's talking to you." Molly said in a whisper, as if worried I'd yell at her for talking.  
"I guess a lot of people died today, I'm shocked I'm still to be honest." John admitted. Caesar mentioned something about how he was one of the few to actually talk to the cameras they knew where there. "I hope Irene's okay, even if she was rude, she doesn't deserve to die." If only you knew John, you'd want her dead.  
"So, I imagine you're there Sherlock, hello." John said, waving to the bare rock, oblivious to the camera on the right of him. I smiled weakly, wanting to say hello back but not wanting to look like that much of an idiot. "I know you're probably cursing me to be quiet, but I just want you to know I'm okay, and I want you to be okay. I guess I sort of freaked out earlier, in the tube, I don't want you to be scared that I'm scared, because of course I'm bloody terrified, but not like, out of control. And before you think that everything I said and did was fear induced, some of it, you know, wasn't. That was real, and I wish I could go back." He admitted. I felt myself blush, now the entire nation was questioning what exactly 'that' was, and Molly definitely was asking herself. "I haven't stopped thinking about you, worrying, wishing you were here, well, wishing I was there. I don't think you'd want a postcard from the arena, it's pretty _bleep_ bad in here. And look, there I go cursing again, and it's not even about tripping over furniture." I couldn't help it, I laughed silently. "Sorry mom." He added. It was amazing that he could keep his spirits up, cracking stupid jokes and laughing to himself even through the situation he was in.  
"I just want you to know that…" he stopped talking at once, gripping his sword. I guess he heard something, and I hoped to god that it wasn't the careers. They couldn't be too close to him though; they had almost a day's speed walk to get to where he was, unless it was another tribute who was doing their own killing. My heart seemed to stop with his words, I didn't want him to be attacked or even scared. I hadn't heard anything, but our sound quality wasn't nearly as good as his ears were. Eventually the cameras switched over to another tribute, seemingly fighting off a snake that was invading their sleeping area. I guess that meant there was nothing interesting going on with John. I wished it would flip back, I wanted to make sure there wasn't a tribute or an animal out there, I wanted to hear him talk, to laugh at his stupid jokes and find out just what he wanted me to know.  
"Did he have your necklace?" Molly asked. I nodded stiffly. I could almost sense her eyes welling up with emotion, as if we were some depressing love story. I guess she wasn't going to ask about what he had said to me before the games, or what had happened. I think she'd probably figured it out though, by now.  
"That's very sweet." She said, sniffing. Without looking I handed her the box of tissues, and she took one. I was shocked I hadn't broken down yet either, maybe I was just fresh out of tears.  
"He'll be okay right?" I asked, even though I knew she knew as much as I did.  
"As long as the cameras aren't on him, I think he'll be good. They like death." She said truthfully.  
"I don't." I muttered in a weak voice.  
"I know, I don't either, but the people in the Capital do." She pointed out.  
"Do you think he'll continue talking?"  
"Probably not." She said truthfully.  
"If anything happens, just yell really loud, if not I'm going to bed." I decided.  
"It's not even nine o'clock yet." Molly debated.  
"The tributes are asleep, there's no reason I shouldn't be." I pointed out, and with that I walked into my bedroom and shut the door. I didn't even go on my bed, I didn't last that long, I leaned my head against the wood and sighed. My first night in a while that I had to fend for myself. I knew I couldn't ask Molly to come in here and hold my hand, I know she'd do it in less than a heartbeat, but it wouldn't be the same, it had to be John, I knew there was something between us that helped me relax. I wondered how he'd sleep tonight, if he slept at all. I doubted under a rock would be nearly as cozy as it is in these soft Capital beds. In Twelve I used to sleep in some lumpy mattress that probably had an entire ecosystem of bugs in it, but if I could just run that over to him right now I think we'd both feel better. I wanted to curl up beside him, act as a shield for everything, the only way a weapon, snake, or even wind could get to him was through me, and I wouldn't stop for anything. I needed him here as much as he needed me there though; I was going to need to drug up just to close my eyes tonight. So I did, I stuck a needle in my arm and sat there as all my problems seemed to drift peacefully away in the ocean, sinking to the bottom where I wouldn't need them anymore. I didn't change into my pajamas, I wasn't that skilled when I was high, I was able to turn off the light and burry myself under my covers though, trying to forget this miserable world.

 _My hand was in Johns, back where it should be, where it had to be. We were strolling in a rose garden, and for some reason he was wearing a crisp white suit. There was nothing wrong with it, in fact I thought he looked stunning. There were no people in this garden, just he and I, the birds were chirping, the air was calm, and the roses smelled so sweet. John was looking up at me with so much admiration that he practically had 'I'm in love' written across his forehead.  
"Sherlock I missed you." He said. Suddenly the victor crown was on his head, coughed up out of dreamland.  
"I missed you too." I said truthfully. John stopped walking and turned to face me, making my heart beat a lot faster.  
"And I never got to say how much I love yo…" a blade erupted from his stomach, rust and blood staining to handle.  
"NO JOHN NO!" I screamed, rushing to his side as the One boy ran off into the distance. John fell into my arms, making me stagger with the weight and sink to my knees. I tried to slow the bleeding by pressing on the wound, but it only seemed to bleed faster. Soon my hand was covered in the scarlet liquid, trailing down my arm and starting to eat its way across my body.  
"Sherlock." John said in a cough of blood, splashing down his cheeks. "Sherlock help me!" suddenly the landscape changed we were in the rocks, John was laying where he had been sleeping and I drifting away slowly. "Where are you going help me!" John called again. I tried to move my legs, but I was drifting farther and farther apart. "DON'T YOU LOVE ME, HELP ME YOU BLOODY TRAITOR!" John screamed.  
"JOHN!" I screamed, trying my hardest to move my legs, but they wouldn't move. "JOHN!" _

My eyes flew open. This time I was in my bed, gripping my pillow to my chest. I felt tears running down my face, and I could almost feel the blood that had been on my hands. I looked at the clock, 2:46 in the morning. I had been out for a long time, must have been why my drug induced good dream was turned sour. I didn't wait around to think about the dream or feel sorry for myself; I grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. The games turned right on, but it was just footage of the Careers walking though the landscape, all looking rather drowsy. I needed to make sure John was alive, not bleeding to death under those rocks. I tried to push the images out of my mind, in the locked door, but something about me just couldn't do it, I wasn't strong enough. John couldn't die, I wouldn't let him, if he died I'd go with him, it was that simple _nothing_ would keep us apart. Apparently the careers were heading back to the Cornucopia, sleepily talking about their adventures. I really hoped the only one they had managed to find was that girl, and John was still hidden and safe for now. The screen flashed back to the tribute who was fighting the snake, forget what district, now clanking rocks together over some dried brush, trying to start a fire. Not only was he making way too much noise, but the light and smoke from a fire is basically a blinking strobe light screaming here I am, come kill me! I guess it's one less person John had to worry about though, if anyone did come get him. I doubted the Careers were going to go after him, they all seemed to care less at the moment. The boy now had a small fire going, blowing on it softly and trying to get the flame to catch. Soon he had a crackling fire, and held the now dead snake over the flames, cooking it slowly. Then it switched to some other girl, who was freaking out in her sleep, screaming and throwing stuff with her eyes closed. All of these people were bloody idiots. After her tantrum was over and she went back to peaceful sleep, it showed John, who's eyes were open. I breathed a sigh of relief, he was alive, but I hope he was sleeping at least a little bit. He was twirling the charm in his fingers again, looking up at the bare rock with boredom. There was nothing he had to say apparently. Once the screen went back to the guy cooking the snake I turned the TV back off, leaving the room into a dark silence that made this whole thing seem a lot worse. I put my head back down on the pillow, trying to fall back asleep but knowing it was a lost cause. I wanted to reach out and feel John's hand take mine once again, I wanted him to be here with me, laying against my chest and snoring quietly. That dream had been the worst I've had, the pure terror in it made me worried for my own safety. In Panem it was dangerous to love, even more dangerous when you're both wrapped up in these dangers. Any time you turn around it could be the last time you see whoever it was, your family, your lover, your children, they could be taken from you or you could be taken from them. I buried my head in the pillow, now excepting the fact that I was going to be awake all night. I decided against the morphine for now, so I stumbled out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. Searching the cabinets I found what I was looking for, a nice big bottle of whiskey. Making sure no one was around; I poured myself a pretty big glass and went to sit on the couch. If Mrs. Hudson or Molly came out I was dead, but for the moment I really wouldn't mind being dead. I turned on the TV out here, turning the volume down in case it woke one of them up. I took a sip of the drink, which warmed me from the inside out. Right now it was showing the snake boy jump around, stamping out the fire that had caught on his attempted food. I guess he wasn't eating anything that night, because once it was out the snake was no more than a pile of stomped on ash. I sighed, he was an idiot. Slowly the alcohol took its toll, my mind calmed down and I could sit on the couch and relax. I knew I couldn't get drunk, then I'd suffer for the rest of the day when I could be out there with sponsors. John must've fallen asleep or something because they didn't show him again all night. I wanted to see him, I wanted him to talk to me and tell me that everything would be okay. Nothing would be okay, we both knew that, but he was the one that had the ability to make me almost believe it. When the sun came up I washed the glass and removed any evidence that I'd ever had it, because still according to them, I had never had drugs or alcohol in my life. I sat back on the couch, knowing they wouldn't question me much if I told them I had another nightmare and couldn't sleep. It was the truth, but not the whole truth. Never would I tell either one of them what the nightmare was about, but if I just said nightmare I bet they could piece it all together.  
"Good morning Sherlock." Molly said pleasantly as she came in, sitting on the couch opposite of me and watching the screen. Currently the Careers were waking up, getting their things together for another fun day of murder. Soon they would leave the cornucopia, but for now they were still depending on it for supplies. I knew they still didn't have water; it wasn't something that was supplied, so they'd have to start looking along with everyone else. I didn't respond, I just watched the screen.  
"You look tired, did you sleep?" she asked.  
"Not much no." I muttered.  
"Bad dreams?" She guessed. I just gave her an obvious glance.  
"I understand." She agreed.  
"You get them too?" I asked, surprised. She never had the night attacks or the drugs, at least none that I've seen.  
"Oh ya, the first year after the games I was just as bad as you, maybe worse, but now I just get small nightmares about it, flashes of memories." She said simply.  
"I didn't know that." I said with a frown.  
"Like it or not, we actually share some traits." She pointed out.  
"Not traits, life experience. All the mentors do." I debated. Molly rolled her eyes at my logic.  
"And if John makes it out, he'll need all the help he can get, because he'll get the dreams too." she pointed out.  
"He already had dreams going into this." I muttered.  
"I bet he did. Did you help him with it?" she asked.  
"That's why we always slept in the same room, I'd sleep in the leather chair and it both clamed us down enough for peaceful sleep." I admitted, leaving out the hand holding. She didn't need to know my whole life.  
"That's adorable." She said happily. I frowned at her, trying to make her remember that now he was probably going to die.  
"Don't call me adorable." I snapped. She just laughed and I scowled. Mrs. Hudson arrived a little bit before the Avoxes brought us breakfast, so we all sat at the table and started to eat. I missed John sitting by me already, it felt way too empty without him making jokes and cheering me up. I wanted him back right now; I was done with this miserable hiatus.  
"Sherlock you should eat something." Mrs. Hudson insisted, pushing the plate of hash browns closer to me.  
"Not hungry." I muttered.  
"We're going to go down to find sponsors today right?" Molly asked between bites.  
"As soon as possible." I said determinedly. I memorized the faces and names of the sponsors; I needed their respect, trust, and most importantly their money. "Do you think anyone will sponsor Joh?" I asked nervously.  
"Of course, he's a very determined boy." Mrs. Hudson assured. I rolled my eyes, if that was my reason to fund John was as good as dead. I had been thinking that maybe I could use the necklace and talking to me to my advantage, I could twist it all into some sad love story maybe, whatever I had to do.  
"Where do you find sponsors?" I asked.  
"Usually they're in bars or restaurants, the capital's viewing room is a good place to start." She decided.  
"The what?" I asked curiously.  
"It's pretty much a room for rich people to hang out, watch the games, and eat fancy food. Sometimes the President himself shows up." Molly explained.  
"Oh, if he shows up I'd love to give him a piece of my mind." I said, thinking about punching him in his old man nose. Nothing would give me greater satisfaction, except maybe having John back in my arms.  
"I'd advise against that, he'll have you executed or worse." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"I'll do my best to restrain him." Molly promised.  
"Oh shut up." I snapped.  
"How's John then?" Mrs. Hudson asked, obviously trying to change the topic.  
"He's doing fine. Did you hear his message last night?" Molly asked. I felt my face start to glow.  
"No, when was that?" she asked. Molly glanced at me, but I suddenly had an interest in the fork on my plate.  
"Well he just said hello and that everything was fine, Sherlock had given him… well." She trailed off, as if I might not want Mrs. Hudson to know about the necklace. I didn't see it as that much of a big deal, but apparently she did. Mrs. Hudson looked confused, as if she wasn't in on a big secret.  
"What?" she asked, trying to be polite about it but obviously wanting to know.  
"I gave him the necklace that I had; it's not really a big deal." I said rather quickly. Mrs. Hudson's face broke out into a sad smile, but she looked thrilled to hear that.  
"That's so sweet dear, you really must love him!" she exclaimed. I groaned, not wanting to hear this again. They were going to team up and beat me down to telling them about everything that had happened before he went in the games, I knew that coming.  
"Can I be excused?" I asked as politely as possible.  
"If you're finished." Mrs. Hudson agreed, but she sounded rather disappointed.  
"I never started." I pointed out, getting to my feet and walking back to my room.


	23. Chapter 23

I took a shower and got into my best clothes, which was a black suit with a white shirt. It felt weird, I hated ties, but I had to look professional, and this was my best option. It was also odd to have the chain absent around my neck; it felt empty in a way. But I knew it was around John's neck at the moment and that made me feel better. Now I was about to go to try to save him, and God knows I will do everything I can to make sure he gets out of there alive. I made sure I looked super professional; using one of the hairbrushes John torments me about to brush out every curl. With that I walked back to living room, where Molly and Mrs. Hudson were watching TV together. When she saw me, Mrs. Hudson smiled widely and clapped her hands in excitement.  
"Oh don't you look stunning!" she exclaimed. "I feel like I need to get a picture or something!"  
"You look great Sherlock!" Molly agreed, blushing a bit. I scowled and ignored their complements.  
"When are we going?" I snapped, using the only thing I knew to reflect the positivity in the air, annoyance.  
"Whenever you want I guess." Molly shrugged.  
"Now." I decided.  
"Give me a couple of minutes to get ready I guess." Molly agreed, getting up from the couch and walking swiftly to her room. I sat in the lonely armchair and watched the games. There was a bit of a fight going on between the Careers, apparently one of them went out to find water and came back empty handed. I wanted to see how John was doing, but I guess scream fights were more entertaining than a cute boy walking along the rocks.  
"You really dressed up huh?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"I thought you had to look this way." I defended.  
"Well I certainly think it will help." She guessed. There was silence for a little while, which I certainly appreciated.  
"You know it's perfectly fine to love him, I don't want you to get the feeling that I'm trying to talk you out if it." Mrs. Hudson added, making me groan. I just glared at her with annoyance.  
"I don't think that." I assured.  
"Well I know that every time I bring it up you always leave." she pointed out.  
"I just don't want to talk about it." I defended.  
"Did you tell him?" she asked.  
"That's not really any of your business."  
"Well, I know you did because Molly told me." she said guiltily. I groaned, I should've known.  
"At least there's privacy here then." I snapped.  
"Did you kiss him?" she asked with an excited curiosity.  
"That is also none of your business, if I don't tell you things there's a reason." I defended.  
"Does that mean yes?" she asked.  
"That means go away!" I exclaimed, completely done with this twenty questions of hers. Mrs. Hudson just smiled and sat back into the back of the couch as if I was a defensive kid with his first crush. I guess it's pretty much what I am actually. Molly came out a couple of minutes later, thankfully ending anymore questions Mrs. Hudson asked. She was wearing a red dress and her hair was pulled into a braid down her shoulder. Mrs. Hudson looked like such an excited grandmother, rushing off to her room saying something about a camera.  
"We should probably leave before she gets back." I decided, trying to escape to the elevator.  
"Come back Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson called, running back out faster than I thought old ladies could run with her camera in her hand.  
"Oh thank god she made it." I grumbled, but walked back to the living room.  
"Get together, come on Sherlock, closer." Mrs. Hudson snapped, raising the camera. Molly put her arm around me, smiling as if we were prom dates or something. I just stood there, trying to get more distance in between us.  
"Smile!" Mrs. Hudson called. I didn't smile, but the camera flashed anyway. "Sherlock you look so grumpy." She frowned, observing the picture.  
"Can we please go?" I groaned.  
"See you later Mrs. Hudson!" Molly said, giving her a quick hug before joining me in the elevator. I pressed the ground floor button immediately, barely giving her time to slip inside before the door almost shut on her foot.  
"You look so nice." She commented. I tugged at my tie with annoyance; it felt like it was strangling me.  
"I just want to get him out of there alive, and if you or Mrs. Hudson make one more comment about me and him you two won't make it out of this building alive." I pointed out.  
"Oh Sherlock, always one for threats." She said as if it was some type of inside joke we had. The elevator doors opened up with a peaceful ding, letting us out into the crowded lobby.  
"Where are we going first?" I asked curiously.  
"I know you wanted to go to the Capital's viewing room, so I guess we'll start there." She decided.  
"Good." I agreed. "And who are you going to fund for?"  
"Well, I don't know. Since Irene is in with the Careers I'll do my best to get some water to her, but that's pretty much the only thing she needs at the moment."  
"So you'll help me?" I said hopefully.  
"I'll do my best." She agreed. If I had to hug her once in my life, it would've been then, but of course I didn't. To my absolute disappointment Greg came up to us before we could escape the lobby.  
"Well don't you two look snazzy?" he said excitedly. He had a drink in his hand and was undoubtedly drunk.  
"Oh hello Greg!" Molly said.  
"Don't encourage him." I muttered loud enough for both of them to hear. So close to freedom, the door was right there.  
"Ever the happy huh? Where are you guys going?" he asked with a bounce.  
"We're going to go find some sponsors." I said flatly. "So if you'll excuse us…" I gave Molly a hopeful look.  
"Of course, sorry, have a nice day you two!" he called rather loudly. Molly said goodbye politely, but I couldn't wait to get rid of him.  
"You know it wouldn't kill you to be nicer sometimes." She pointed out, opening the door and letting us step outside. It was crisp outside, a chilly wind blowing but the sun beaming down on us. The streets were crowded, the colorful people walking to and from where ever they had to be. Molly and I joined the crowd, I just followed her since she knew where we were going. A couple of girls seemed to know who I was, trying to take pictures and flirt with me, but I just kept walking, trying to get as much distance as I could between me and them. Soon we came to another skyscraper thing, Molly opened the door and led me inside. The lobby was a lot fancier than the one in the Tribute Center, which was really saying something. Molly introduced us to the secretary, who looked somewhat normal except for her striped pink hair. She gave us two passes, each with our name and picture on it, they would get us up the elevator to the viewing room where, apparently, the sponsors all where. When the elevator doors opened, the room was complete white. White marble floors, white painted walls with pictures of snow and rubbish that was also white. There were vases of white flowers and the white armored peacekeepers. The people on the white couches looked almost out of place with their fancy black suits, so expensive it made me look like a slacker in mine. There was a huge flat screen TV playing the games, where it showed a tribute struggling to get over a ravine. The people, mostly men with the occasional women were all sipping champagne and eating fancy foods on toothpicks served by white suite waiters. I knew that the President's color was white, pretty much because of his last name, Snow, but I didn't know he went all out like that. Molly went right over to the couches, she acted as if she knew these people personally, which, I figured, might be true. I looked around, trying to spot one of the men from the wall. There was a small bar in the corner with three smaller TV's playing overhead and a lone man sitting on one of the bar stools. I decided to start with him, and not with such a big crowd. I walked over, trying to think of something to say. He was bent over the counter, staring into his small glass of what looked like whiskey.  
"Do you mind if I join you?" I asked in my best polite voice. He looked up at me with boredom, and waved his hand in approval. He reminded me of myself a little bit. I sat in the stool next to him, taking a glass of champagne from the waiter walking around. "I'm Sherlock Holmes, and you?" I asked, thinking that would be a good place to start.  
"Harry, Harry Grossman." He muttered, as if disappointed in his name, he seemed almost as positive as I was.  
"Nice to meet you Mr. Grossman." I said politely.  
"Wait a minute, did you say your name was Sherlock?" he asked, suddenly sounding interested in me.  
"Yes sir, you probably know me from last year's games." I agreed with a slight smile.  
"That tribute was talking to you right, that John kid?" he asked. I didn't know what to reply to that, yes, that's my boyfriend isn't he adorable?  
"Yes, John Watson, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about." I agreed.  
"He's funny, made me laugh." Harry said with a chuckle.  
"Oh yes sir, he makes me laugh all the time. Do you think maybe you'd like to donate to him, make those laughs last longer?" I asked hopefully.  
"Oh I don't invest, sorry kid, broke." He said, twirling the glass in his hands to make the liquid swish in his cup. "Everything goes to this stuff." My heart sank; I thought I could have luck with him.  
"Well, than your for your time Mr. Grossman." I said, quickly getting off the chair and walking disappointedly back to Molly. She had successfully started to talk to the other people, apparently telling a story or joke that made them all laugh.  
"Ah, here he is now!" she announced. I felt all the eyes look at me and I sort of stared with awkwardness.  
"Hi." I muttered. Maybe I was able to be polite and persuasive with one man, but not with a whole group.  
"Come sit down Sherlock, we were just talking about you!" Molly said happily, her smile making me cringe. I hoped it was all an act to get their money, because I hated crowds and attention. Nevertheless, this was for John's life, so I sat next to her on the couch and looked at the intimidating people around me.  
"Where was I, oh yes, so we're all extremely confused, because usually he just hides in his room and scowls at everyone, but now he was acting really weird, pretending to be an alien or something." Molly said. Oh great, not only was she making me look like an angry person (which I was, but they didn't need to know that), but she was making me look like an idiot as well.  
"Ah yes, this…" I said, pretending to smile.  
"He didn't last long of course, because he could barely get a sentence out before he was on the floor laughing." Molly finished. The sponsors laughed, as if that was the most hilarious thing they've heard. "So he goes back to his room and a couple of minutes John comes out, completely ignoring us and starts licking the window." She broke into a fit of laughter along with them, as if it were as funny as she made it sound. I remember that, she wasn't laughing, she had been really confused. "And then he complains it tastes like chicken and walks back to the room. By now I was so confused, so I decided to check on the two of them just to make sure they weren't on drugs or something," she took a moment to catch her breath, "And when I come in Sherlock is about to lick John's foot!" she exclaimed. The room exploded into laughter, some man's champagne spilling over the floor but he didn't seem to notice. I smiled shyly, not seeing the big deal, it wasn't all that funny. "Turns out they were playing truth or dare, but I thought Sherlock turning into an alien was more likely than Sherlock playing a game." Molly admitted. The sponsors got over their laughing, sighing and catching their breath.  
"I'm not that much of a grouch!" I defended. "I can have fun!"  
"Sherlock I think that could be considered a joke also." She pointed out, getting some chuckles.  
"So John Watson right? The one with the necklace who talked to the cameras?" one of the men asked. I guess that was quite popular, even Harry the drunk had pointed it out.  
"That was so sweet." A woman exclaimed. I blushed a little bit at that being called sweet, but I guess it was going to work to my advantage.  
"Well, I guess we both miss each other a lot." I shrugged.  
"I understand you two were close." another man commented. I looked at Molly, who gave me an encouraging nod.  
"Ya, I guess we turned into better friends than either of us expected." I shrugged.  
"It must have been hard saying goodbye." A woman commented.  
"You have no idea." I said with a small laugh.  
"He sort of freaked out, I don't know what happened in there before hand, but he was a real mess, we had to sedate him from crawling up the tube to get to John." Molly explained. I blushed, looking at the floor in shame.  
"That's so adorable!" the woman exclaimed.  
"It's not adorable." I snapped with annoyance. The woman just laughed, as if I was adorable. I looked at the screen on the TV, about done with these people. I didn't care if they had money or not, all they wanted was to get a nice laugh or sob story and pretend to be fresh out of cash. There wasn't much action going on apparently, so they were playing clips from past years. I saw me on one of them, looking up in confusion as the hovercraft came down. I had no idea that I had been the last one alive, I had only killed one person, I thought for sure this torture would go on for a life time. I looked pretty good actually, in a totally rugged starved and beat up kind of way. My hair looked good at least, being blown around by the engines. I hoped John's hair looked that good. I had problems, serious problems. Molly was telling them some other story, I wasn't really paying attention, but the sponsors were starting to lose interest, walking off, watching the TV, or eating food from the platters. After a while Molly decided to call it quits, we said our goodbyes and then got back on the elevator. I was just thankful to see another bloody color other than white.  
"That went okay." she decided. "At least they stuck around for a little while, most people see mentors and run."  
"That was annoying, do I have to play the sob story roll?" I asked.  
"Of course, that's what they want, completely made up stories or humor, love, and sadness. Sorry to say but you have all of those." She pointed out.  
"I have sadness, that's it, so shut up." I snapped.  
"Oh stop pretending Sherlock, you know a lot of people care about you, you're just too grumpy to see it." she insisted. I frowned again, it was true that I was grumpy, but my fan club wasn't exactly stretching out the door. Yes my family loves me, they kind of have to, and I know Molly and Mrs. Hudson cared for me, that was five. Add John as the special someone that's six. Wow, I was popular.


	24. Chapter 24

The elevator dinged open and as Molly gave her pass back to the secretary I pocketed mine when they weren't looking. I didn't know when I might want to use it. Neither lady noticed, and we walked easily out of the building.  
"So we'll stop back at the flat for lunch, and then we can go out at night to get some more sponsors." Molly decided.  
"Thank god, I can't take this suit much longer." I growled, pulling the tie off in a vicious yank, which made a girl on the other side of the sidewalk walk into a light post. We went back to the tribute center lobby, where Greg was still there, trying to talk to a girl that obviously wanted to talk to him as much as I did. We rode the elevator up, where lunch was on the table and Mrs. Hudson was in the living room, watching the TV.  
"You two were both on!" she said happily.  
"For what?" Molly asked. I already knew, but I kept my mouth shut.  
"Oh, I guess it's a bit dull so they were showing a lot of the previous victor's last stands." Mrs. Hudson shrugged. I sighed, not liking to remember that.  
"Is John okay?" I asked anxiously.  
"As far as I know, but I think the dehydration is hitting all of the tributes." She guessed. The TV was now showing a tribute hiking up a hill or rocks. My guess was they were walking right up the volcano, but I could be wrong.  
"Do you think the volcano will erupt?" I asked.  
"Of course, it's volcanic for a reason." Mrs. Hudson said.  
"Viewers love lava." Molly shrugged.  
"What if it gets everyone, what would they do if they all die?" I asked, just hypothetical.  
"Well I guess they all die and that's the end of it." Mrs. Hudson said. I frowned, that would be miserable, but maybe not as bad as seeing another person get fame and riches for killing John.  
"Lunch got here way before you did, and I must say it's been tempting." She said, changing the subject. I threw my tie on the couch and sat at the table, looking longingly at John's empty chair. What I wouldn't do to have him sitting right there. Mrs. Hudson and Molly both loaded up their plates, and even I had a couple of potato chips, the first food I've had since John left. I tried to listen to the TV, which was sitting behind me at the moment.  
"There's John!" Molly exclaimed, almost spilling her cup of orange soda over the table. I ran to the TV in a panic, sitting so close to the screen I felt like I could reach out and touch him. He was poking around the bushes again, looking desperate. It was at the bottom of a hill, so I knew he was searching for water. His face was paler than usual and his movements were sluggish, signs of dehydration of course. Now I was very worried about him, I hadn't seen any water in the entire arena, with any of the tributes. It switched away to the tribute climbing up the mountain, who was currently rock climbing up big boulder-like rocks.  
"He's thirsty, he's looking for water, we need to get a sponsor to give him some, please, how much is water?" I asked.  
"It's really expensive since the tributes really need it and it serves no entertainment purposes. It's actually one of the most expensive things there is." Molly mumbled.  
"Great, how do we get that money?" I asked hopefully.  
"Well we can try the sob story again I guess." She shrugged. I grabbed my tie off the couch and started tying it in a frantic knot.  
"Let's go!" I decided, clicking the elevator button.  
"Where are we going, I'm not done with my lunch!" Molly defended, stuffing the remainder of her chicken salad sandwich in her mouth and waving good bye to Mrs. Hudson as she ran to join me in the elevator.  
"Can you give me a second?" she asked after she swallowed, digging lipstick and a mirror out of her purse and refreshing it.  
"We need to get John water." I said simply, walking out of the elevator with a fast pace. Molly struggled to keep up, stuffing the lipstick in her bag and jogging in her high heels.  
"Where can we go where sponsors will be?" I asked.  
"I don't know, maybe a sports bar?" she shrugged.  
"Rich people hang out in sports bars?" I asked.  
"Everyone does." She groaned, as if it were the most annoying thing in the world. "But now there are no sports on, the games pretty much is all they watch." She pointed out.  
"Get as much money as you can." I insisted, now following her down the street to where ever this bar was. She led me to a thick wooden door, and when we stepped inside it smelled like beer and peanuts. The room was dark and there were a couple of tables, but the bar itself was enormous, men and women all sitting on stools and talking loudly. The music itself made my ears hurt. But she was right; the games were on the TV, like every other TV in Panem. Molly went right up, sitting in a stool and ordering something. I took the chair next to her, watching as the bar tender poured her a glass of wine.  
"Anything for you sir?" he asked, handing her the glass. I opened my mouth but Molly just slapped my arm.  
"No thank you. You are way too young to be dinking Sherlock!" she exclaimed. I just frowned at her and looked to my left. There was a guy sitting there, he looked young, with dark hair and was sipping at a beer on the table.  
"Hello." I said quickly, trying to see if he would be willing to sponsor. He looked my way, smiling politely.  
"Hey, I'm Jim, you?" he asked.  
"Sherlock Holmes." I said. I heard Molly talking to whoever was on her side.  
"No way! Sherlock Holmes, last year's victor right?" Jim asked with shock, as if I was some rare superstar.  
"Ya, I think so." I said, making him chuckle.  
"You were awesome in the games, I was sure you were dead but look at you now!" he said happily.  
"Thanks, I guess." I muttered.  
"Nothing personal mate, just the facts."  
"I suppose you know this year's tribute then, John Watson?" I asked hopefully.  
"Cute blonde kid right?" he asked. I squinted suspiciously at him; no one called John cute except me.  
"Ya, him." I agreed.  
"Ya I've seen him, he was talking to you right?" he asked.  
"That seems to come up everywhere I go." I sighed.  
"Well it made a big impact, no other tribute does that, and he sounded like he really missed you." Jim pointed out.  
"Well, I hope he does." I muttered. Jim laughed as if that had been a joke or something.  
"You two have a thing?" he asked with a small smile, hitting me lightly in the shoulder as if we had been friends for years.  
"I don't think that's any of your business."  
"That's a yes if I've never heard one." he pointed out. "Let me buy you a drink." He decided, flagging over the waitress.  
"Oh, I really shouldn't, Molly will kill me." I muttered. He leaned over to see her sitting next to me and frowned.  
"Girlfriend?" he asked.  
"God no, just friend that keeps an annoyingly close eye on me." I muttered.  
"Hey you, give me another beer!" he called. I looked over at Molly nervously as Jim handed me the bottle, but she was too in depth with the conversation she was having with whoever was sitting next to her. Jim popped the cap off for me and I almost wished Molly would yell at me, Jim was kind of too friendly, like Greg, he was annoying.  
"So, you and John, how far has it gone?" he asked as I sipped the drink cautiously. It wasn't at all as mind calming as the whiskey had been.  
"I said it's none of your business!" I insisted. Jim just laughed again, a laugh that didn't match his cold eyes.  
"Hey Jim, I was…" a man walked up to him, but seeing me he stopped talking immediately. He had sandy dark blonde hair and looked like an ex-soldier or because he was very tall and muscular.  
"Ah, Sherlock, this is Sebastian, Seb, this is Sherlock Holmes, last year's victor." Jim said, glancing at the man.  
"Nice to meet you Mr. Holmes, always nice to meet a celebrity." He said. With that he took the seat next to Jim, great, now I had two weird people to deal with.  
"So, as I was saying, John Watson, he's out there suffering, there's no water out there and I'm really scared for him, anything you two can invest would be appreciated so much." I decided, getting to the point immediately.  
"Oh dear, sorry Sherly, we're victors too, District three." Jim said. Sherly? Really?  
"Oh, sorry for bothering you then." I muttered, really wanting to get up and leave now.  
"It's quite alright; we're just on a bit of a break from trying to get those rich lads' money as well. We don't have much to worry about, they're both Careers again." Jim shrugged, as if that made his life kind of dull.  
"Even the Careers need water." I pointed out, looking up at the TV screen to prove my point. One of the other tributes, I don't know from what district, had actually found a small puddle of water and was drinking it so fast you'd think it was the last water on Earth, which, in this situation, was actually quite likely. I wanted to point out that she'd probably die from some bacteria since she drank it straight from the ground, and the Capital wouldn't just leave water clean like that.  
"And they will find some, eventually, but for now they have the water in their foods to keep them going." Sebastian pointed out. I frowned, he was right of course, and the only foods that the Capital provides in those backpacks are dry things, like dried beef and crackers. I didn't understand what was so entertaining about dehydration, but it was definitely the #1 cause of death in the games.  
"Have you gotten any sponsors yet? Johnny looks like he needs them." Jim asked me with a smile I didn't return. I was very much aware that John needed them, and I didn't like it when other people pointed out I was doing my job wrong. He made me very uneasy; he seemed like the type of guy who could kill you with a flick of his hand simply because he'd get Sebastian to do it for him. There was a sort of evil I could sense, behind his innocent smile and his friendly conversation.  
"Not yet, only started this morning." I muttered. Sebastian whispered something into Jim's ear, and suddenly he looked rather worried.  
"We need to get going, but I'm sure I'll be seeing you very soon Mr. Holmes." Jim decided, sticking out a hand for me to shake. I shook his hand reluctantly, and he just smiled at me and walked off with Sebastian. I sighed, happy the two had left, and stared at the TV screen. The Careers had found the snake guy somehow, and now he was trying to defend himself with a small sword against at least six tributes. Eventually he saw he was hopeless, and took off running down the rocky slopes. The Careers were on full pursuit, chasing after him and whooping with delight. The man Molly was trying to talk to stood up dramatically, slammed a dollar bill on the table and walked out of the bar as if it were some sort of show. Molly picked up the dollar with a frown and unwrinkled it.  
"Well, one dollar down, a couple thousand to go." She shrugged.  
"Can a dollar buy us anything?" I asked hopefully.  
"Not even a drop." She sighed, but never the less stuffed it into her purse. "Any luck with your guy?"  
"No, they ended up being victors, creepy ones too." I shrugged.  
"Then what are we still doing here?" she grumbled, sliding off the stool and leading us both out into the nearly binding sunlight.  
"What now?" I asked.  
"We wait I guess, until night time when more people will be around. I don't think the daytime crowd wants to invest in anything but drinking." She shrugged. I sighed, John was out there dying and I had to stay here and try to persuade people to help him. It sounded so easy, but in real life people were nasty little brats, never thinking of anyone else but themselves. We walked back to the Tribute Center, I was in a bad mood, sulking my way to the elevator and ignoring everything Molly tried to say to cheer me up. It wasn't a good day, it was terrible, John was dying and I sit here, useless. The elevator dinged, telling us that it was time to get off, and the doors opened peacefully.  
"Is there anything you want to do?" Molly asked.  
"I want John back."  
"There's an ice skating rink down the street, that might take your mind off everything." Molly suggested.  
"I'm not going to go ice skating." I snapped.  
"Well how about a movie?"  
"No movies are playing; everyone's watching the love of my life get murdered." I pointed out. Molly's encouraging smile faded, and I immediately realized I should've picked better words. Thinking that in my head was a lot different than having Molly judging me.  
"No, I didn't mean it like…" I stared.  
"No Sherlock, it's okay, if that's…" she assured.  
"I didn't mean he was the love of my life, I just meant…" I just walked away to my room, knowing that she'll want me to talk to her about my feelings.  
"I know what you meant; you can talk about it if you want." She decided. And there it is.  
"No Molly I'm fine!" I yelled back, shutting the door and locking it. I heard her voice muffled from behind the door, but I couldn't make out the words. I set my forehead on the wood, banging it slightly as if that would knock out all of the memories and thoughts about John. Why would I ever sat that, why, why, why? My forehead started to hurt, but it's what I get for being such a failure. I deserved pain; I should stop drinking just so I get the same pain as John has. If he died, I'd go with him, even though I had promised him that I wouldn't follow him, he even told me not to, but I would. I don't want this life, I never had, he seemed like the only good thing to ever happen to me and if he died I'd have to keep going like this, sending tributes in, watching them die, saying words at the funerals… Not worth it. I felt a tear run down my face but I ignored it, it meant I was still alive, that he was still alive, that there was still the smallest fraction of hope. I walked over to my bed and collapsed on it, laying there, looking at the ceiling and almost feeling like I could reach out my hand and he'll be there.  
"Sherlock are you okay?" it was Mrs. Hudson this time, obviously Molly had told her what I had said.  
"Go away!" I yelled back.  
"Come on dear, there's no shame in it!" she insisted.  
"We're worried about you!" Molly called this time. Oh great, now both of the moms were out to get me.  
"I said go away!" This time it was an angry scream, I wanted nothing to do with them, unless they could get into those games and fish him out. I heard them muttering, but they must've walked away because they didn't say anything. I swung over the edge of my bed, I was spiraling back into this desperate state, I needed them, I couldn't do this without it. I grabbed a syringe and stuck the needle in my forearm, almost debating on a second one. But slowly the drug entered my blood stream, calming me down and relaxing my brain. It was okay now; it would all be okay now. I slumped back into the pillows, pulling my covers overtop of myself and sighing with relief. It was okay.


	25. Chapter 25

I must have fallen asleep because I was woken up with loud banging on the door. I groaned, I felt perfectly fine now, it must've worn off. Ugh.  
"What!" I called.  
"Dinner's ready!" it was Mrs. Hudson.  
"I'm not hungry!" I pointed out.  
"Sherlock you haven't eaten anything in almost two days, come out here or I swear I will break this door down and drag you out!" she threatened. The sad thing is, I believed her. I dragged myself to my feet, stumbling to the door and blinking away the sleep I had. The light stung my eyes, but thankfully the sun was going down, so there wasn't any real sunlight.  
"Is he okay?" I asked hopefully.  
"For now, but he really needs water." Molly sighed.  
"Then we have to get him some!" I insisted.  
"You need to sit and eat, we already made a plate for you." Molly insisted, pushing me towards a chair. The plate in front of me had steak, broccoli, and potatoes, the classic meal. I didn't want to eat, I felt like I'd throw up, but nevertheless I picked up my fork and started to pick at the food.  
"Were you sleeping?" Molly asked as she twirled some spaghetti onto her fork.  
"I _was_ yes." I snapped.  
"Nightmares?" Mrs. Hudson asked. No, for once, I was high, but I just nodded, that would be what they were expecting. I picked at the potatoes on my plate with the fork, trying think of a good way to distract them long enough for me to throw this slop out the window. The TV showed another girl, the one who had climbed up the volcano; she had reached the top apparently. She was standing on top, looking inside at the bubbling lava. It was a too close to the top to make me feel comfortable. If he was going to go out, I didn't want him to burn to death in this lava. The girl looked nervous, but dropped a couple of stones in the lava. They sunk, but left a cloud of dark smoke rising. I didn't know what she was expecting to happen, them to burn or to bounce back, it was obviously lava idiot.  
"Eat Sherlock." Molly insisted. I stuffed a mouthful of broccoli into my mouth, but I immediately thought I was going to throw up. It took a lot just to swallow the vegetables.  
"Are we going out again?" I asked hopefully.  
"As long as you're up for it I suppose." Molly agreed.  
"I'm fine." I lied. I wasn't fine, and part of me wished that she could see that. The TV switched perspectives and it was John this time, the first time I've seen him since this morning. He looked awful; he was coughing and looking around desperately. The smile that was once on his face was long gone, and I was pretty sure he wouldn't be making any jokes for a while. His clothes were dusty and dirty, there were small cuts on his face from God knows what and it broke my heart into so many little pieces that I doubt even duct tape could fix it.  
"No, go now." I decided.  
"We're not going anywhere until you finish your meal." Molly decided, but I could tell she didn't want it to come to that. She wanted John also, just not as much as I did. She wouldn't be left to death like grief if he died. I stuffed as much food into my mouth as possible once John's image left the screen. I ate that plate of food faster than any of us thought imaginable, draining a glass of water and making my hair look presentable as I walked to the elevator.

That night was wasted apparently; no one gave us any money even though my throat was starting to hurt from talking so much. We tried everything we could possible try, the sappy love story, the guilt trip, I even flirted with one of the girls and if that's not determination I don't know what is. The only thing that we got out of that night was a phone number scribbled on a napkin, and I dumped it in the nearest trash can I could find on the way back home. The streets were close to deserted; everyone was either at home or at a restaurant, enjoying their evening. I was getting less and less patient; I couldn't stand this anymore, I had a job to do and I wasn't doing it. I was angry, storming down the street at a pace that Molly had to jog to keep up with.  
"Sherlock wait!" she called, but I had no reason to wait for her. "Sherlock it's not your fault!" she insisted, catching up to me finally.  
"YES IT IS MY FAULT!" I screamed, stopping where I was to let my anger out. I knew she didn't deserve it, but she was about to snap my last nerve. "JOHN IS IN THERE AND I CAN'T HELP HIM, I CAN'T DO MY BLOODY JOB!" my voice echoed off the dark street, and Molly just stood there in shock, not knowing what to do.  
"Sherlock you're doing all you can!" she assured.  
"THERE HAS TO BE MORE!" I kicked a metal trash can, the closest thing I could find. Unfortunately it was nailed to the ground, so all I got was an extreme amount of pain, not as much as I deserve though. My hands were clenched into fists; I was physically shaking with rage. "THERE HAS TO BE MORE I CAN DO!" I repeated. Molly was out of words, she looked terrified and I didn't blame her. If anyone else was in her situation they'd be running for their lives. I didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she stayed.  
"You have broken almost every rule you have for yourself to try, you went out in public, talked to people you've never seen before, you even flirted with a girl! If someone told me that would happen a week ago I would've laughed in their faces! You have gone to the ends of the earth to do whatever you can and you still think you haven't done enough!" Molly debated, looking like she was on the verge of tears. I didn't know what she would cry, this was my battle not hers.  
"HE'S STILL IN THERE, HE'S SUFFERING AND DYING! I'M LEFT HERE TO TRY TO COPE WITHOUT HIM BUT MOLLY I CAN NOT!" I started, breathing heavily and hoping no one was on this street. "I have tried _everything_ to get a good night's sleep, to live my life without the fear of that arena, everything under this bloody sun, and the only thing that worked was when he was with me, when his hand was in mine, I slept like a baby." Molly looked torn between beating me up and hugging me, part of me thought she was able to do both if she really wanted to. "He was the single best thing that happened to me, and I've lost him in less than a week. Maybe this is why I haven't trusted myself to feel like normal people do, why I locked up all my emotions because this is what happens when I try to think that I can love someone. I'm left alone, and scared, and angry, worse than I was before but this time I know there is something that I can do, and I'm not doing it correctly." I felt like a weight had been removed from my shoulders, talking about it even though it was angry, it helped more than I thought it would've. Admitting that this was new, that I felt hopeless, someone to sit and listen was more than I could've asked for. Molly just walked up to me and gave me a hug. Even though it was not returned, just the fact that I let her be within two feet of me was probably saying something. I heard her sniffle; she was fighting back tears almost as much as I was.  
"If any sponsor had heard that, you'd have all the money in the world." she muttered. She led me back to the apartment, and now the toll of what I had said was taking place. I was too embarrassed to walk beside her, I walked far behind, I didn't want her to look at me. She had thought I was an emotionless freak before, and now all the sudden here I was losing my mind over a boy, I felt like a whiny teenager who was being judged by his mother. But she didn't bring it up the whole walk back, or the elevator ride, and when I locked myself in my room neither one of them came knocking. I flipped on the TV and went into the bathroom, splashing my face with cold water. My reflection in the mirror looked so normal; if I didn't know myself I might have thought I was normal. But if I stared into my eyes I could see the hurt that was buried deep, all of this mental and physical pain that was eating me alive. That night I went to bed early, sticking two syringes in my arm this time and trying to have a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Somehow my eyes did shut, and I actually fell asleep, a task, in this manner, that I thought impossible.

"Sherlock wake up." someone was at my bedside, which was odd, since I thought I locked my door. I opened my eyes and saw the outline of a short, muscular man. He smiled down at me with hazel eyes and I thought my heart must've stopped.  
"John?" I muttered.  
"Don't look so surprised Sherlock, I'd never leave you." He assured.  
"You're, you're in the arena, you're dying." I pointed out, trying to shake myself out of this miserable dream. It was haunting me, John was haunting me, but when he placed his hand on top of mine it was solid.  
"You don't think much of me do you?" he asked with a laugh. He was wearing his pajamas, and not the tribute outfit they had given him, he was clean, fresh, and innocent.  
"How'd you get out?" I asked with amazement.  
"To see you of course." He said, as if I was supposed to take that as an answer. He sank onto the bed with me, holding my hand close to his face and smiling. "I couldn't leave my best man here to suffer."  
"Too late." I muttered.  
"There's no need to be worried for me Sherlock, I'll be fine." He assured.  
"I could've helped you though; I failed…" he shushed me quietly, and I closed my mouth immediately, worrying that if I upset him he would leave again.  
"You did all you can, and that was all that I could ever ask for." John assured. I smiled at his reassurance; maybe I was doing something right after all. "I understand you got my message, from the arena?" he asked.  
"It was so nice to hear you again." I said.  
"I wasn't lying Sherlock, I may have been a little bit psycho in there, but I meant it. And I loved that kiss as much as you had." He said, stroking my cheek with his freehand. I shivered at the touch, he was here, solid, somehow someway and this was the best thing that I could've ever wished for.  
"I meant it to. I love you John." I repeated. He nodded as if that was old news, which I guess in some way it was. And then he kissed me, this time with a lot more passion than in the tube. That had been a desperate kiss; this was one that was telling me to stay with him forever. And of course I would never leave him, never let him slip from me again.

When I woke up John was gone, but I remembered the night vividly. That couldn't have been fake, he was so, real, it couldn't have just been a wild hallucination. I rolled out of bed, looking around the room to see if he was on the ground or something. He was here, I fell asleep next to him, or was I asleep the whole time? I pulled on my robe and unlocked my door, walking into the living room where Mrs. Hudson and Molly were already up. They looked more excited than I wanted them to be, they should be as miserable as I was.  
"Good news Sherlock!" Molly exclaimed. I looked at her with annoyance, there was no such thing as good news anymore, surely she should understand that more than anyone.  
"What?" I asked.  
"He found water!" she exclaimed. Even though the night I had, I smiled the expression almost hurting my face since it felt like I haven't smiled in ages.  
"You're serious?" I asked, as if she was just trying to cheer me up.  
"There was a little pond and he managed to sanitize some water, he's up and on the move again." Molly said. My face dropped a little bit, realizing what that meant.  
"So, he's still in there?" I asked. They both looked as confused as I felt.  
"Of course dear, where could he go?" Mrs. Hudson asked. I shook my head, of course he hadn't been real last night, of course he was just a hallucination. The fact that he could've gotten out was way too ridiculous.  
"Nothing, just, hoped he wasn't." I muttered. Molly looked slightly suspicious, she knew that I had been resorting to things to fall asleep, by now she had to have realized that I was getting high almost every night.  
"Let me guess, dreams?" Mrs. Hudson asked, stirring her tea around. I nodded, taking a seat on the couch but couldn't help smiling.  
"He's okay then?" I asked, not willing to believe it.  
"Maybe he heard your speech, it wouldn't be impossible." Molly suggested. I glared at her, disappointed that Mrs. Hudson didn't look surprised. Obviously she had been told about what happened.  
"So you've been informed." I sighed.  
"We're worried about you Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"There's nothing to be worried about." I defended.  
"Drugs?" Mrs. Hudson pointed out. I looked up at her with surprise.  
"What about them?" I asked in a bored expression. I didn't expect to be confronted like this; I didn't want them to go poking around in my private life.  
"Oh come on, Molly was smart enough to figure that out, when you say everything under the sun we can figure out it's drugs." She insisted.  
"I'm not on drugs, I haven't sunken that low yet." I defended. Molly held up a shoe, my shoe in fact, the drug shoe.  
"Where did you get that!" I demanded.  
"I got it when you were asleep, not too hard to pick a lock." She shrugged, dumping the multiple syringes into her hand. "You were, well, cuddling your pillow." Molly said in a small voice. I felt myself blushing, but I was too worried about them finding about the drug shoe than my hallucinations.  
"Did you have a warrant?" I defended, holding out my hands for the shoe and its contents.  
"No, but we have every right to search. Drugs lead you down a dangerous path Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said.  
"I've already been down the dangerous path, that's why I need them, to keep me from remembering it." I pointed out, still gesturing for the drugs.  
"You said that John helped you sleep without these?" Molly asked. I didn't want to, but I nodded. And then, to my amazement, she handed me two syringes. "These should hold you over until he returns. If he doesn't, we have to send you to rehab, but if he does, we're flushing all of these little needles down the toilet." Molly insisted. I shoved the syringes in my pocket, afraid that they'd try to take them from me again.  
"Fair enough." I muttered.  
"We're very disappointed in you Sherlock, for not telling us about this." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"Don't tell me you haven't used them before?" I asked Molly.  
"No. I knew that if I did I'd only get worse." She pointed out.  
"How do you sleep at night?" I was amazed that she was able to.  
"With a lot of tea and self-respect." She snapped. I frowned at her, obviously she wasn't thinking much of me at the moment, but what did I care, I got what I wanted. But rehab, oh that sounds miserable. Good thing I'd never go there. If John doesn't make it out, I know the last place I was going was rehab and the first place was to go visit the man upstairs. I sulked, leaning my head on my knees and watching the TV. The Careers were suffering now, almost as much as the others without water. They were sluggish and irritable, I was kind of hoping a fight would break out between them, leaving many dead and less for John to have to deal with, but obviously that was too much to ask. But as long as they went without water, the better the chances that they would die.  
"Breakfast then." Mrs. Hudson decided, walking over to the table, which was once again loaded with all types of food. I wandered over, not wanting to take my eyes off of the TV since John could show up any moment. It was weird, almost like he was a celebrity on an award show, a very deadly award show. I didn't eat anything more than some bacon since I had a full meal last night. Molly looked mad at me, and it was no mystery why. She didn't approve of the drugs, but it's really not her area to complain about.  
"Why don't you eat a bit more than that?" Mrs. Hudson suggested.  
"I'm not hungry." I pointed out. Mrs. Hudson sighed, but gave up there. Molly didn't say anything, which was a bit of a miracle if you ask me. She just glared at me, but as long as she kept her mouth shut I wasn't complaining. I didn't know how they expected me to get through with only two syringes. At the moment on the TV the Careers were hunting down some poor tribute, a girl, but she was running for her life so I couldn't quite tell who it was. When she went down with an arrow I tried to think of who all was left. There couldn't be too many others; in fact the only non-Careers I remember are John and the girl on top of the volcano. I knew that once the numbers go down the gamemakers will use the lava to get the remaining tributes and entertain the audience. I hoped John could figure that out too, and get prepared. If the volcano does explode then that would take out the girl on top, but what about the Careers? Would he have to fight all of them or trick them, like I did? I excused myself from breakfast and sulked off to my room, not in the mood to go talking to people today. Maybe tonight I'd go out, but for now if I get turned down one more time I'm afraid I'll rip someone's head off. I locked the door, but it didn't give me enough security since Molly had said she could pick a lock. I guess I really underestimated her motherly side, breaking and entering just to make sure I wasn't doing anything I shouldn't. I sighed; looking at the bed where I was sure John had been last night. It made no sense, usually my hallucinations weren't solid, maybe it was just a dream, or because I had two shots instead of one. I sat against the headboard and got my sketch book out, observing my last drawings. John with the victor's crown and John killing off the last Careers, my dreams on paper apparently. I flipped to an empty page and started doodling with the charcoal pencil, not quite sure what I was drawing, but trusting my thoughts to map it out. When I was done I stared at it, this time it was John on a rock in the arena, above flowing lave while there were bodies sinking into the fires. That would be nice, yes. There was a knock on the door and I just sighed. When would they start to understand that I really didn't like to talk to them? 


	26. Chapter 26

"What?" I yelled.  
"I was wondering if we were going to go out and find sponsors!" Molly called back.  
"Tonight!" I said.  
"Okay, if that's what you want!" Molly agreed, and I heard her high heels clicking against the floor. Half of me hoped she would go out by herself; it seemed like a Molly thing to do. I spent the rest of the day in my room, ignoring their calls for lunch. I had the TV on in here, and so far John had shown up a number of times. He looked a lot better and more alert, drinking from a container he probably got from the backpack. He was also eating what looked like a cooked bird, I wasn't paying enough attention to see how he got and cooked that, but I wasn't complaining. When it switched back to the Careers, they didn't look nearly as good as he did, which gave me a feeling of hope. Maybe he did have a chance to outlive them. Irene didn't look good at all, which I knew I should be sad about but I really wasn't complaining. Her hair was a mess, apparently they didn't have hair brushes or makeup in the arena and she looked like a completely different person. As far as I know she hadn't had any sponsors, her master plan didn't work like she thought it would apparently. It wasn't just our fault that we weren't trying to get people to fund her, I think she had all she really needed with the careers. It would've been different if she hadn't gone with them. I knew that Molly and I had subconsciously agreed that John was the more important person to save out of the two, and I was certainly not complaining. At about five o'clock I came out of my room for the first time, the sunlight coming out of the picture windows making my eyes burn.  
"Hello dear." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. Once again she had a mug in her hand and a biscuit in the other.  
"Where's Molly?" I asked, noticing her absent glare.  
"She went out to do some sponsoring, I'm sure she'll be back to pick you up." she said with a smile. I nodded, happy that she was out there helping while I sulked. "Have you been watching the games?"  
"John seems good." I said with a nod.  
"I'm worried about that volcano though; it's been bubbling and rising for a little while." Mrs. Hudson pointed out. I nodded somberly, if Mrs. Hudson thought something looked bad than it really must be.  
"I hope he'll be okay." I muttered, as if she already know that.  
"I know dear, we all do." She agreed. The elevator dinged and Molly stepped out, but instead of looking angry she looked delighted.  
"Great news!" she exclaimed. I looked at her with suspense, what god news? She held up a piece of paper, but even from here I could tell it was a check. I jumped to my feet and ran over to her, giving her a huge hug and examining the check. It was for five thousand dollars.  
"How in the world!" I exclaimed, but I didn't care, it was here, that was what mattered. I was so overwhelmed with excitement that I actually gave her another hug.  
"Oh it took ages, but this nice woman was crying by the time I stopped talking." Molly admitted, rather flustered from my hug. I felt like I could actually jump up and dance, which of course I'd never do, but John might actually be okay.  
"What can we buy with this?" I asked.  
"Let's find out." Molly decided, placing the check in my hand and running to her room, returning not a minute later with her laptop. She placed it on the kitchen counter, turning it on and pulling up a webpage she had saved to her desktop. The background, once again, was me with the victor's crown on, but neither of us paid any attention to that. It was a Capital webpage of all of the things sponsors could fund, and she scrolled down to the five thousand mark.  
"Let's see, we can buy him a half a loaf of bread, an empty water skin, bandages, or a couple of packs of matches." Molly read. It wasn't much, but it was perfect.  
"Let's send the bread, he needs all the energy he can get." I decided.  
"Okay, we'll be back Mrs. Hudson, we've got to send some bread!" she said with a lot of excitement. It was quite pathetic actually, how we were so thrilled over some bread, but John needed all the help he could get, and now I was actually able to help him. Molly and I went in the elevator down to the ground floor, walking through the lobby and carrying the check in my hand like it was royalty. We went back to the building where the Capital Viewing area was, but this time we went to a completely different floor. I had forgotten about my stolen badge from before, so both of us got new ones and were sent up the elevator to the third floor. When the doors opened it looked like a fast food restaurant. People were examining boards above the counter, where people in white uniforms were talking with the mentors to arrange sponsorship. Molly and I already knew what we were getting, so we went to the nearest open person and Molly set everything up. There was a peacekeeper right next to us, standing guard, which very much creeped me out. They smelled weird too, up close, like clean leather and plastic. The Peacekeeper paid me no attention, but I really didn't like being so close.  
"Here Sherlock, write a note to him." Molly said, handing me a small piece of white paper and a fancy Capital pen. So much to write in so little space. For all I know, this would be the last thing I ever said to him, talk about stressful. I scribbled down my note and passed it back to Molly. It read, _I hope to see you soon; we have full faith in you- SH._ I also drew a small little heart next to my name, just to remind him of that. Molly smiled at me and passed the note over to the Capital worker, who took the check and the note and thanked us for our time. Molly and I went back to the Tribute Center, and now I felt like I had actually done my job, even if Molly had done it for me.  
"Thank you a lot for getting some money for him." I said as we rode up in the elevator.  
"Just doing my job." she shrugged.  
"No, you're job was to take care of Irene, and now maybe John will last another day because of you." I pointed out. Molly smiled thankfully at me, but didn't say anything since the elevator doors opened up.  
"How'd it go?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"Fine, they should be sending it soon." Molly said, sitting on the couch. I sat on the empty couch, watching the screen in happy suspense. Soon the screen skipped over from the girl on the volcano, who had been wrestling a bird to try to eat it, but instead dropped it into the fire accidently, to John, who was walking among the dried bushes, pulling them up to start a fire or something. There was the metallic beeping sound, the arrival of a silver parachute. He looked up and I saw a smile break out on his face, he knew what it was. He caught it midair, dropping his bushes and looking around defensively. He unscrewed the top of the container and found the note first, although he looked seriously relived to see the bread underneath. He picked up the note and read it to himself, his smile widening and as he read.  
"Thank you Sherlock, wherever you are, thank you so much!" he said happily, ripping a chunk off of the bread and stuffing it hungrily into his mouth. I smiled at him; it was almost like I could talk to him, although I knew he was far away from here in the arena of death.  
"He should be thanking you Molly." I pointed out.  
"Don't spoil the moment with that, he's fine, for now." Molly pointed out. John stuffed the bread in his backpack and pocketed the note with one last glance before then the camera switched to the Careers again.  
"Isn't that just sweet?" Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. I stared at the TV, wishing beyond wishes that he'd just come back and talk to me, like he did that night, as if he was standing right next to me again. But he didn't, and the Careers were starting to fight again, their voices rough and dry. I almost felt bad for Irene, but she was screaming again, waving her dagger at the boy from two, who obviously didn't like that. I had to admire her courage, but I knew she was way out of her depth in a fight like that.  
"I'm sure he'll enjoy it, but for now I am starved." Molly decided, looking at the table. The Avoxes were long gone, probably came when we were out, but the food smelled pretty good, so I joined them at the table and nibbled at a piece of garlic bread.  
"You're happy." Mrs. Hudson guessed. I looked up at her with mild annoyance.  
"How could you tell?" I asked obviously.  
"You're eating." She pointed out.  
"Oh my god really, I had no idea. Thank you for officially spoiling my almost good mood." I sighed.  
"I didn't mean it in a bad way, it's a good thing!"  
"Oh just give it up." Molly groaned, one of the few comments that could be considered not saint like out of her mouth. From that point on, my garlic bread sat untouched on my plate. It showed John on screen a couple more times, but there wasn't anything going on. He was searching for a place to sleep, but had wandered so far off that the rocks had become smaller, like pebbles almost, so he was having trouble. Eventually he nestled down in some bushes, which I didn't really agree with, but under the cover of darkness their shadows would help conceal him. He didn't look golden, or even very healthy, but compared to a day ago he was looking a lot better. I tried not to let myself hope too much, if I have hope and he dies even more would crash down on top of me. We all migrated over to the living room, watching the TV and Mrs. Hudson trying, once again, to force us to drink hot chocolate. I took a couple of sips of mine, but I set it down, not very thirsty at the moment. I sighed, wishing I could curl up on this couch with John and just forget this miserable world around me. Now there was a fist fight among Irene and the boy, weapons on the ground but each of them going for blood. I don't know what it was about; they were probably all irritable because of the lack of water or something. She was actually doing a lot better than I thought she would, elbowing him in the neck, swinging her foot out and tripping him, but he was getting some good blows himself, kicking and punching her until her nose bled. The other Careers were just standing around watching, proof that none of them were actually friends; if one person lost use then it's a knife in the back apparently. They were cheering for their favorite, more of the guys cheering for the boy, but all of the girls cheering for Irene to slit his throat. Molly and Mrs. Hudson looked nervous, even I wanted Irene to win this fight; even though I particularly hated her I'd rather her live on than the boy. Eventually she got him in a headlock, but he managed to punch the side of her head, sending her sprawling to the ground. He grabbed a knife from the ground, hacking down at her, which she rolled to avoid and sent a kick right in his face. That only seemed to make him madder, and with a couple more swings and punches, she was too slow. The knife stuck itself in her stomach, and suddenly she didn't seem all that confident anymore, not as the ground around her started to pool with blood. Even I had to look away, and Molly and Mrs. Hudson were both grabbing at the tissues. I heard her cough, and someone next to her telling her that it would be okay. It was a girl, probably the girl from one. I stared at the floor, my heart hardening. Even if she was the most obnoxious, self-centered brat I've ever met, she didn't deserve a death like this. And it only proved that it could happen to anyone, like John, except he wouldn't have anyone by his side as he died. A cannon broke Molly and Mrs. Hudson to tears, stuffing tissues into their hands like they were gold and sniffling loudly. I didn't cry, I wasn't that attached to her, but her death definitely shook me up. Mrs. Hudson was trying to calm Molly down, but she was crying too, so it was actually quite pathetic. Caesar was talking about how you can never trust your allies, and that was maybe the one true thing he's said since the games start. I almost felt like I had to comfort the two, but then they'd send me to rehab anyway, just to make sure my brain hadn't been messed up. I could imagine this scene every time one of their tributes died, two times in a week every year the two of them were crying like babies, more proof that being a mentor was equal or worse to torture. The screen flipped as Irene's body was being picked up in the crane, about to be shipped off to the District; it was back to John, who was craning his neck to see where the cannon might have been from. I could tell he was nervous, for all he knew the death had been a couple of feet away and the Careers were on the hunt again. He pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket with one hand and ripped off a chunk of bread with the other, eating it thankfully and washing it down with a bit of water.  
"Well Sherlock, I know you must be watching now. I don't know who died, but my heart goes out to their family." John said. I smiled, he was so considerate and sweet, the exact opposite of me. If I were in his position I'd be saying how great it is to have one more dead. "I've made it this far, I guess we should be thankful for that, a couple of days closer to maybe being back with you." He sighed. I felt their teary eyes watching me again, but I ignored them and tried not to blush. "By the way, thank you, again, you, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson, I can tell you've been out there fighting for me while the worst thing I've fought was dehydration. I guess I shouldn't be complaining though, I won that one." he sighed, looking up to the sky and into the starry night. "I miss you so much, all of you, I imagine this whole Hunger Games thing had been hard on all of us, especially you." I wanted to talk to him, to say something other than a small, encouraging note in the bread. I wanted to hold his hand and watch the stars next to him, rolled together with his head on my chest. "I guess I should shut up now, but I'm thinking about you Sherlock, and if I don't make it out of here, I guess I should just say I agree. I hope you know what I'm saying, because this is live TV and probably everyone I've ever known is watching, so that's all I'll say about that. See you all later, I hope." He ended. I stared at the screen, as if trying to comprehend whether or not I heard that correctly. He agreed, agreed about what I could only guess, but my best guess was that he had just said, in his own way, that he loved me too. He agreed on our love. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. He agreed, we could be together.  
"What does he mean by that?" Mrs. Hudson asked curiously. I stared at him, the screen still showing as he clutched the necklace charm in his hand and curled into a ball.  
"He agrees." I muttered, as if trying to except it myself. Molly dabbed at her eyes more with the tissue, her makeup running down her face in war paint like streaks. "He loves me too." I said with more confidence. Even through the sadness throughout the last twenty minutes, both of them had smiles on their faces now.  
"Of course he does Sherlock, that's no surprise." Molly assured. It was to me, it was a complete miracle to me, I was a cold, heartless, jerk who's first ever crush actually loved him back. At first I thought that kiss was just because he was so terrified of death, but it actually did mean something. Why did he have to be in that arena, why now, why him? Out of everyone Mrs. Hudson could've picked fate decided to bring us together just to tear me apart as I watched him get torn apart by some Career's sword. I didn't know whether I should leave the room or stay and watch him more, just to make sure he didn't say anything more. After while of watching the mountain girl struggle to find any bit of food I decided he was done talking for the night, but I just sipped my now cold hot chocolate and think about what could've been.


	27. Chapter 27

That night I didn't even bother with the drugs because I didn't bother going to sleep. These were crucial days in the games, the Careers were back out but now they were more focused on trying to find water than tributes and the volcano was starting to look very threatening. There was now footage on it, how close to the top it was and Caesar talking about how he was worried about it. I wondered when he ever slept, because he still sounded as energetic as he had in the interview, but if I'm right he's been up for three straight days and nights. Not that I haven't gone longer than that. I sat cross legged on my bed, the lights off but the bed still made up by the Avoxes, the TV was the only source of light, flashing colorful shadows on the walls. John was still asleep, not shown much, but every time he showed up on the screen I felt like he was almost beside me. He looked so peaceful, to peaceful if you ask me. You shouldn't be getting good night sleeps in the arena; you should be alert and ready to bash anyone's head open on a second's notice. Right now I thought the volcano could explode and John would barely stir. He agreed. I guess he's had some time to think on it in the arena, not that he had anything important to think about, like his life or anything, but I wasn't complaining at all.  
"He loved me." I muttered to myself, so quiet that I could barely hear but just the fact that it rolled off of my tongue made it true. I sighed, wishing I could just walk out my door and go into his room, lie on the chair and feel him fall asleep next to me. But I knew if I walked in there all I would find was the room sanitized and ready for next year's potential tribute. That room wouldn't be used, as soon as John got out of that arena he would be crowned victor that night and then shipped off on the train immediately after. Then again, that was if he actually did get out. The rest of the night consisted of the Careers walking around and trying to find water, but still no luck. Part of me wished they would find some, just a little bit, enough for one person and have everyone kill each other over it until the last one lives, getting the water. That would make it a whole lot easier for John to manage. The only way I knew the sun came up was when I saw the faintest slit of sunlight between my thick curtains, meaning I'd be expected to come out or they'd come knocking. I got up, surprised that I actually felt drowsy and sluggish. I was getting too used to sleep; I had to get in the habit of not sleeping because there if John didn't survive I could never face the nightmares. I grabbed my robe and tied it around myself before wandering back out to the living room, where I found, to my surprise; Molly was the only one up.  
"Didn't expect to see you so early." I muttered, yawning widely and ending my sentence.  
"I couldn't sleep, after what happened to Irene…" she muttered.  
"Well I'm pretty sure you've got my morphine, your welcome to use it." I offered, which, in my case, was like sharing part of my soul, but instead of being thankful that I was sharing with her she looked appalled at the thought.  
"No, but thank you?" she sighed.  
"Did you sleep at all?" I asked, sitting on the couch opposite and watching the TV. The lava girl was once again stirring, and I was able to guess that John and she were the only non-Careers alive, or so they've been the only few I've seen in a while.  
"No." she admitted.  
"Me neither." I sighed.  
"I can tell you've been thinking about what John said right?" she guessed.  
"Of course."  
"Are you happy about it?" she asked.  
"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" I defended, kind of insulted that she's think otherwise.  
"Well I just thought that you'd be all sad about what could've been you know?" she asked.  
"I only want him to be happy, and if he's decided he shares those feelings then that's fantastic." I pointed out. "It's nice to know that I am able to connect to another human."  
"Well, I think it is brilliant that you actually found someone that you like, and it's no surprise that he likes you back." Molly said with a smile.  
"You're talking." I pointed out.  
"Sherlock you just shut up about that! I do not fancy you!" she defended, but there was a smile on her face and I think I saw a bit of a blush in her cheeks.  
"Hey, I can't blame you, I'm irresistible." I said with a sarcastic smile.  
"You're the biggest jerk I know, but once you get over that you've got a good heart." She assured. I tried to look annoyed with her, but I just couldn't. That was an actual complement, and I was actually feeling something other than dread in my life. Maybe John's influence had made me an all-around better person.  
"But are you okay though? I know that it can be rough." Molly asked.  
"I'm fine, for now." I shrugged. She nodded and I looked back at the TV. It was John again; poking his head suspiciously out of the bushes to make sure no one was around. He looked like a curious ground hog and I couldn't help laughing to myself. Once he decided the coast was clear he took a bite of the bread and a sip of water and then was off to where ever he was headed. I thought, since he was so far away from the nearest tribute, that he should stay put. If he wandered too close to the barrier the Capital would push him back and it wouldn't be pretty. The screen changed to the Careers, but this time Irene wasn't there, it was the old gang but they looked more uneasy, as if they knew someone could go psycho at any moment and start killing. I felt like I should say something comforting to Molly about Irene, but I didn't know what. She's in a better place? That was pretty pathetic, there was nothing you can really say to that and not sound like an idiot.  
"Good morning lovelies." Mrs. Hudson said happily, shuffling over to the armchair.  
"Good morning Mrs. Hudson, sleep well?" Molly asked politely, which made me cringe. Too much politeness, tainting my irritability.  
"Afraid not, I never really sleep much after a death like that, especially when it's one of our own." She sighed.  
"I guess we all could've had a slumber party out here then." I muttered, even though the very idea made me want to jump through the window.  
"Did you have a rough night too dear?" she asked Molly, who nodded. Ugh, this compassion thing was getting to be too much, sentiment, kills me.  
"Sherlock you don't have to look so bitter, come on, I know there's a smile in there." Mrs. Hudson insisted, and I just smiled. I didn't respond, or even make any notice that I had heard her. Molly and her had some mental conversation, I could tell when they did that, and neither of them spoke for a little while. The Avoxes came in shortly after, bringing us our food silently. I guessed that the Avoxes would be good to talk to, tell secrets and crap because their tongues were cut out by the government. I doubted they'd interrupt me much. Mrs. Hudson thanked them as they left, but they just nodded their heads in reply, walking back off to who knows where. I honestly have no idea how they get in and out of here, maybe a servants elevator or something, but I don't recall seeing one and they don't use the main elevator. It's like they just zap here or something. We sat at the table, once again I ignored the food, even the bacon didn't look appetizing at the moment. Both of them seemed a little bit apprehensive about eating also; Irene's death had shaken us all up apparently. It was weird to be at the other end of sadness, in my little world I only saw myself as someone who would stop eating and stay up all night, I was the only one effected by this cruel world and everything negative that happened only happened to me. Obviously there was something wrong with that, other people suffer just as much as me, but somehow they learned to control themselves, which, to me, seemed completely impossible. They snapped back when I was just spiraling more and more out of control.  
"Oh no." Molly muttered, snapping me out of my mind and turning to the TV, where I saw John still walking.  
"What, what's wrong?" I asked suddenly.  
"He's getting too close to the border, way too close, he needs to turn around." Molly insisted. I ran to the TV, not bothering to stop when my chair fell hard to the hardwood floor. John was indeed walking too close, Caesar Flickerman was commenting on that, but my heart was about to stop. I knew what the capital did to turn them around, fires, floods; swarms of insects, anything to chase them away, this would not end up well.  
"Turn around!" I yelled loudly, as if he would hear me, as if he would actually turn around and walk the other way. He had to know he was getting too close, he's watched the Games; he knows how this turns out. Maybe he was too paranoid of the Careers to stop and really think about what he was doing, but it concerns me.  
"He'll be fine Sherlock, it'll be alright." Mrs. Hudson assured, but I knew she had doubts, just like I did. I groaned, covering my face with my hands as if that would somehow make all of this go away. When I opened my eyes back up he'll be fine, prancing along the rocks hundreds of feet away from the barrier and the Careers. But when I opened my eyes he was still walking the way he was, not seeming worried or aware that walking that way will face consequences. I stayed in the living room the rest of the day, I was terrified to watch, I didn't want to see him die, but I needed to make sure he was okay, still breathing, but still walking. The camera flipped on and off him, and every time it came back I was terrified that it was because it was about to happen. As he was walking I began to notice his hair start to fly around, not that I was focusing on his hair, not for long at least, but it meant the wind was picking up. Turn around you idiot, can you not see what is coming! Apparently his was going to a tornado or windstorm, and I really didn't want either for him. It was better than fire or big animals I guess. He started to take notice, as did Caesar, who was commenting on the new wind with excitement. He seemed to think that this was good, more people wanted to watch violent storms than walking around. Soon the wind was so strong that John was being pushed back, unable to walk, and then the funnels started to appear. Small, at first, picking up a few rocks, but John seemed to pick up on what was going on. The funnels were growing, throwing more and more pieces of rock and debris around like it was nothing. Soon John was covering his face but also running for his life the way he came, but I knew it was too late. He was wincing as small rocks and pebbles hit his retreating back, and I felt tears in my eyes as I saw him getting injured. He didn't deserve death, he didn't need one scratch. But the wind was picking up, the rocks were getting bigger, one fell at his feet that was almost the size of his head. John picked up the pace, strapping the chest strap of his backpack and practically sprinting. He looked behind him and ducked with a yelp as a chunk of rock went flying overtop, if he hadn't ducked it would've hit the back of his head. I heard him curse loudly, but it was bleeped out, apparently the Capital didn't want children hearing curse words of the dead people they watched bleed out. John was back on his feet, dodging as much as he could, but the wind funnels themselves were creeping up on him. Run John, for God's sake run. He was too slow, the funnel caught up to him and he was sucked up into it like a rag doll, I could hear his screams even though the tremendous wind and it broke my heart. He was being pounded with rocks and stones, his face getting cut up and bloody, and then he was spit out, like the funnel didn't like how he tasted, and went flying hundreds of feet, skidding to the ground with a sickening slide.  
"John!" I screamed, as if he could hear me. I didn't realize that my hands were on the TV screen, my heart racing and my forehead sweating. I didn't hear a cannon but he wasn't getting up, his clothes were ripped and dirty, blood dripping into the rocky sand. "John get up!" I screamed again, almost shaking the TV. And then, by some miracle, his eyes opened and he fell into a coughing fit, crawling to his knees and spitting out anything that would come out, including small rocks, puke, and spit. He groaned and crawled to his feet, testing his weight on each foot to make sure they weren't injured. The wind storms had stopped and his backpack was still strapped to his back, but he had nasty cuts and scrapes all over. I breathed a sigh of relief; he was okay but in need of bandages and cream or something.  
"Is he okay?" Molly asked nervously, covering her eyes with her hands as if scared to look.  
"For now." I sighed.  
"Oh thank god." Mrs. Hudson muttered. John was looking around, as if trying to see where the windstorms came from, where they went, and if tributes were around. His sword had ended up a couple of feet away, but with a bend in the blade so it looked crooked. And with a drink of water and another bite of bread, he started walking the other way, every so often looking back to see if he was in any danger. I got to my feet as well, trying to play it off as if I wasn't screaming at a TV. Molly and Mrs. Hudson were watching me nervously, as if I was about to start screaming and going insane, but I stayed calm.  
"He's alright." I assured myself and them. So close, but he was alright.


	28. Chapter 28

We spent the rest of the day watching the games, but nothing real exciting happened. Molly and I decided we'd go out looking for sponsors that night, we could use the wind storm to our advantage but we didn't exactly need sponsors. Breakfast was all but forgotten and lunch was eaten on the couch, another meal I totally ignored. After that scare my appetite had taken the Avox elevator out of here, somewhere I doubted I'll ever find it again. Molly and Mrs. Hudson were watching me nervously, but I really didn't feel unstable or anything, like I knew they thought I was. I wasn't about to attack them or have another scream confession like on the sidewalk after the bar. I felt like, for the first time in a while, that I had some control over myself and I was pretty much sober for now. At about four o'clock Molly and I went to get ready, my suit had been washed and ironed from someone, I didn't know who but I didn't necessarily care. I put it on, loosening the tie a little bit since it felt like I was hanging myself. I hated this thing but knew it was necessary, I knew they wouldn't give money to a druggie in pajama pants and a robe. I made sure my hair and teeth were brushed before walking out of the room. Molly was wearing some type of blue dress, which, if I weren't in love with a dude, might have been pretty.  
"Ready?" she asked, holding her purse in both hands as if afraid one of us was going to mug her.  
"I guess so." I agreed. Molly hugged Mrs. Hudson a hug but I just waved halfheartedly, waiting in the elevator for her to hurry up.  
"So, what are we trying to fund?" she asked.  
"John…" I said obviously, worried she might have forgotten.  
"No, I mean what does he need?"  
"Bandages, food, water, the volcano should be exploding any moment now, so maybe rope or something?" I shrugged.  
"A good list I guess." She agreed. The elevator dinged open, letting us into the lobby. There were a lot of people wandering around, mentors, escorts, and some random people that I didn't recognize. Greg was talking to some dude I didn't recognize, I doubted it was for sponsorship since his tribute died in the bloodbath, but he was smiling and listening, which I thought was a shock. I guess he saw us because he waved, making the man he was talking to look with curiosity. I ignored both of them, not wanting any part of socialization right now. We walked down the street to one of the more fancy bars, not the one that I met Jim and Sebastian in, but one where the rich hang out and sip wine more expensive than my old house. Molly knew where it was from her numerous years being a mentor, talking to the waiter, who eventually let us in without a reservation. The whole place was white, like the Capital Viewing center, so it must be funded by the Capital. The people were all very rich looking, and here that meant they barely looked like people at all. I immediately felt out of place in this suit, even though it was expensive I doubted they'd think of it as more than a handkerchief. Molly looked around, as if trying to find out who to ask first. I preferred loners, I wasn't confident enough to face more than one person at a time. But I stuck with Molly, knowing she must have some type of technique for getting their money. There were couches arranged, just like the Viewing Center, with TV's in almost every corner. At the moment I saw John, he was just walking but seemingly stalking a lone bird, holding his sword as if ready to strike at a moment's notice. Molly sat down on one of the only lone couches; I joined her and looked around at the clientele. They didn't pay us any attention; it was actually as if they didn't know we sat down, but Molly started talking to them as if they were old friends. It started with the pathetic introductions, yes, we were tributes, yes John was the one to get beat up by the wind storms, yes it was very close. They were annoying rich people and I didn't enjoy talking to them very much.  
"He talks about you a lot, Sherlock right?" one of the people asked, here we go again, the desperate love stories they wanted to badly.  
"Yes." I muttered with fake interest. Molly glanced at me as if trying to tell me to be nice, an impossible factor really. I really didn't want to talk about a sob story again, it was too much effort.  
"John and he got pretty close actually, a lot closer than we imagined." Molly admitted after a little bit of silence. I smiled with annoyance, here we go.  
"How close exactly?" A woman asked with a laugh, as if it was some joke and we actually weren't in love.  
"Barely any space in between." I said with a small smile. I didn't know if I was trying to encourage them or make them run away from homophobia, but it definitely wasn't the answer they were expecting. Molly looked at me with shock and fear, obviously she wasn't expecting that either. The group we were talking to was silent, looking quite uncomfortable with the topic now.  
"Well we didn't think they'd even talk to each other, but Sherlock actually smiled for a while there, something we thought we'd never see again." Molly said quickly, changing the conversation as if it would clear up what I said. But after a while the group on the couches got lesser and lesser, and eventually Molly and I excused ourselves, leaving the bar empty handed.  
"Well I hope you're happy." She snapped as the door closed, walking onto the empty sidewalk.  
"No of course I'm not, we got nothing." I pointed out.  
"I wonder why." she sounded upset and it kind of worried me, when Molly Hooper was upset you know you've done something wrong.  
"Well in my defense they did ask." I pointed out.  
"Metaphorically, they didn't want to know how close you and your little boyfriend got!" she snapped.  
"He's not my boyfriend! Not yet." I added in a small voice. Was this jealously I detected?  
"I'm sorry to say it Sherlock, but you are extremely bad at being a mentor." She hissed, picking up her pace just like I had the other day. It was kind of scary that our places were switched.  
"Well we all knew that would happen I'm rubbish with people." I defended.  
"And manners, and posture, and avoiding very awkward conversations." Molly snapped.  
"They asked!" I protested.  
"No they didn't Sherlock, they were joking but it was quite obvious that you were being serious. I don't know if you thought it would be funny or you just don't care about him anymore, but that is not a way to get sponsors!" she said loudly.  
"Someone's a little bit hormonal today." I commented. I guess that wasn't the right thing to say at a moment like this, because she turned and smacked me in the arm with her purse. I didn't know what was in there, but it felt like a ton of bricks and it hurt a lot.  
"I'm not hormonal I'm done! Every year these games are so stressful, now with you crying and screaming over John I just feel like I have to save him because I'm the only one who can! If this is how it's going to be every year with you as a mentor I don't know if it's worth it!" she yelled, making me step back in case I got a purse to the head this time. What do I say to that?  
"I'm sorry." I muttered. Her face seemed to relax a bit; maybe she was a little bit surprised or relieved. It was like she'd never heard those two words from my mouth.  
"Well, thank you, I guess." She said with a huff. And with that she walked back to the Tribute Center as if this happened every day. Weird, and definitely hormonal. I followed at a safe distance, rubbing my arm where I was sure a bruise would form. When we rode up the elevator I kind of stood towards the back corner, but Molly didn't really pay me much attention, just looked at the doors as if wanting them to open desperately. When they did she went over to the kitchen and started making tea, what she had said was her substitute for drugs.  
"How'd it go dears?" Mrs. Hudson asked from the couch.  
"Not good, how's John?" I asked, priorities.  
"He's fine, cut up his shirt to make some bandages, thought of you." Mrs. Hudson said with a little laugh. I just scowled, that was just the type of teasing I wanted to avoid by not telling them anything other than what they need to know. Now with drugs and my feelings for John it was like I had handed them my diary. Not that I had one, of course.  
"What went wrong out there?" she asked.  
"Oh, the usual Sherlock." Molly sighed, pouring cream and so much sugar in the tea that I thought it would end up just slushy sugar lumps in a cup.  
"What did you do?" Mrs. Hudson asked suspiciously.  
"Nothing I thought was too bad!" I defended.  
"Well I was trying to go down the road to the sob story, you know, one true love almost sentenced to death and said how close they were getting. So then one of the girls, jokingly," she glared at me and I raised my hands defensively, "And guess what he said?"  
"I'm pretty sure she'll just tell you." I added as Mrs. Hudson opened her mouth to guess.  
"He said barely any space in between!" Molly said as if that was a world class crime.  
"Oh dear…" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed.  
"Am I the only one who doesn't think this is wrong?" I defended, but obviously I was.  
"So you two did kiss then?" Mrs. Hudson asked, as if that was the most important thing here.  
"None of your business." I snapped. "If you must know, Molly had a little bit of a break down on the street; she raised her voice and hit me with her purse." I pointed out. I thought Mrs. Hudson would find that more outrageous than my comment, but she just gave Molly a smile and thumbs up. I rolled my eyes and went to go back to my room when Caesar started talking excitedly, which probably wasn't good.  
"What's going on?" I asked nervously.  
"There's smoke coming from the volcano." Molly muttered, being able to hear from all the way over there should be considered a miracle to be honest. It showed the black smoke rising in the air and the girl on the mountain running for her life down the slopes. She was a bloody idiot for staying up there so long, not to mention a dead man. The lave must really getting to peak then. It switched to the Careers, who were watching apprehensively and muttering to one another. I guess they had found water somewhere; they were drinking from canteens and water skins and looked pretty refreshed. I could only hope that they were stupid enough to not clean out the water first. Then it was John again, looking up at the smoke from his hiding place in the rocks. Mrs. Hudson had been right, he had pretty much destroyed his shirt for bandages, I made sure to keep my eyes on his head just to avoid those two making fun of me. If they could all see the volcano from where they were it was obvious that the final battle was meant to happen on or around it. I knew the girl who was running was practically dead, all she had was a small pocket knife and if she ran into the Careers running down the mountain she'd be out of breath and almost defenseless. John looked nervous, I could tell we were thinking along the same path, except he didn't know where the Careers were and he didn't know the girl was on the mountain.  
"It won't explode until tomorrow probably, they want everyone to be watching and people might be in bed by now." Mrs. Hudson assured, checking her watch. It was around eight o'clock, so she was probably right. They might make it explode tomorrow; it might all be over tomorrow. Molly sat down with her tea, watching the screen as the girl was sprinting down the rocky slopes; sliding along in the boots they were provided.  
"She's as good as dead." Molly decided, as if reading my thoughts. I certainly hoped she wasn't though. Mrs. Hudson nodded sadly.  
"She should've known it wasn't the best idea to camp on an active volcano though." She pointed out. When she put it like that it was almost did sound like suicide, but this was the hunger games, the whole thing was pretty much suicide.  
"Well I think I'll be heading to bed, if you need me wait until morning unless it has to do with John." I decided, thinking that was a fair thing to say. And with that I walked off to my room, shutting and locking the door behind me. I changed into my pajamas and sat on the bed again, not wanting to sleep for fear of nightmares. But I decided, if the whole thing might end tomorrow, I might as well tap into the little drugs I had left. I stuck the needle in my arm and sighed with relief, curling into a ball under the covers and missing the reassuring touch of John's hand in mine. But it was okay, nothing was too wrong now, the world seemed very flat at the moment, it was okay.


	29. Chapter 29

_Lava. Lava and blood was all that was left of the floor now. I was stranded on a rock in the middle of the pool, trying to keep my balance on the unstable surface. I saw John holding on for dear life to a rock, screaming as his legs dangled so close to the liquid fire. He was screaming my name, I couldn't hear him through the rush in my ears, but I could tell by reading his lips. He was terrified, his strength weakening, somehow this had to be my fault, I was responsible for his misery. I tried to tip the rock I was on towards him, but I couldn't move without actually falling in and swimming. His grip was failing; he was screaming desperately, there had to be something I could do, anything I could do to make sure he wouldn't drown.  
"Hold on!" I screamed, but he didn't need me to encourage him, he was already doing that.  
"Sherlock!" this time I heard him, his screams pounding against my ear drums, so loud that I thought my skull would crack. "Help me, what are you doing, help me!" he shrieked. I tried to move, anything. The rock he was on was crumbling, his feet splashing in the fires. "What are you doing help me!" he repeated. I was trying; there was nothing I could do but watch. The rocks crumbled and with a heart ripping scream he plunged in, almost in slow motion, the last I saw of him was his terrified glare, this was all my fault, he was dead and it was my fault.  
"John!" I screamed, debating whether or not to jump in and try to get him out. "John!" I repeated, but the lava just bubbled tauntingly.  
_"Sherlock!" Molly's voice tore me to reality, I opened my eyes and saw that I was almost hanging off of the bed, not a rock, and John wasn't dying in front of me it was only Molly and Mrs. Hudson. They were both in pajamas and looking very worried. I blinked a couple of times, looked around with embarrassment.  
"Sorry." I muttered.  
"It's fine, are you okay?" Molly asked.  
"Ya, dream, go back to sleep." I sighed, crawling back under my covers.  
"We were scared to death, you were sort of screaming." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.  
"I'm fine now. How'd you even get in here, the door was locked!" I pointed out. Molly held up a bent up paper clip, once again I underestimated her. I just frowned, but kind of touched that they were that worried about me.  
"I'm fine, have a nice night and please shut the door behind you." I said with a smile.  
"Well, if you need anything we're right down the hall." Molly insisted.  
"No of course I won't, good night." I assured, burring myself in my covers and waiting until a little while for them to leave. Then I turned on the TV again, watching as all the Careers slept in a close pack, weapons and supplies cradled to them like teddy bears. John was asleep too, huddled under a cluster of rocks, he looked restless too, he knew something was coming just like we did. He was breathing heavily, all the sudden shaking and bolting up in his sleep, hitting his head off the rocks with a beeped out curse word. I smiled to myself, he was so adorable. But I didn't want him to be suffering, I didn't want him to have nightmares like me, it was such a dangerous road to go down. He rubbed his head and looked around, his sword hilt gripped in his hand nervously. When he noticed there was an all-clear he settled back into the rocks, getting his breath back and pulling the note out of his pocket again. By now it was all crinkled, he must have unfolded it and refolded it numerous times, like he read it a lot.  
"God, now I really need you here." he muttered. It obviously wasn't something he was expecting me to hear; he probably thought I was asleep. I really hoped his time in the arena damaged his brain that much though, because if he knew me I didn't sleep much. He had no idea how much I needed him at the moment too, if there was anything in this whole entire world I could do to get him out of there I would, but I was stuck here watching him helplessly. It was just like the lava I suppose, a deadly metaphor, I could see him, a couple of feet in front of me, but there was nothing I could do to prevent him from falling in. That had definitely been the worst dream I've had, the helplessness, apparently everything I screamed in the dream was screamed in real life. John sighed, tucking the note in his pocket but trying to fall back asleep with the necklace grasped in his hand. The cameras switched again, and if he got to sleep I didn't know, but I certainly didn't. I was up all night again, watching the tributes sleep and forcing myself to stay away from the drugs, the one syringe laying tauntingly on the dresser, as if beckoning me to it. The sun came up in the arena long before it did in real time, I guess now the gamemakers were messing around with the night and day changes, which couldn't be good signs. They always like to have the final battle in darkness, it adds to the creepy factor. I got to my feet and pulled on my robe, sighing with annoyance at having to face another day. But I was pretty sure this would be all, this might be the last day I had to spend alone, or the last day I spent with the hope that John might return to me. I was the first one up, as usual, but the sun hadn't risen yet. According to the fancy clock on the wall it was only four or so in the morning. I turned on one lamp, all the light I would need for just sitting there. I didn't know why I traded sitting on my bed and watching TV to sitting on a couch and watching TV, I had to say it wasn't much of a difference. The Careers were up and moving again, making sure all their stuff was accounted for and that everyone was still there. Not like it would matter if someone actually got lost or ran off, one less person to kill. The girl had slept on the edge of the volcano but didn't look like she had gotten enough sleep at all, probably ran all the way down just to sleep in some peace. John was on his feet; throwing his sword in the air and trying to flip it to catch the handle, but it went too far up and spun oddly because of the dent in the blade, causing him to jump out of the way to avoid accidental injury. I smiled weakly, once a klutz always a klutz apparently. I really hope he makes it out, sometimes I think I hope too much. If he didn't I think my entire world would shatter, I had already decided that I would follow him if he ended up going upstairs. I knew Molly and Mrs. Hudson would be completely heartbroken to find me dead, but what was I supposed to do? This was why I wasn't allowed to get attached so easily, because nothing lasts forever, especially when the Hunger Games was involved.  
"You're up early." Mrs. Hudson said, snapping me out of my thoughts.  
"So are you." I pointed out.  
"Not really." She sighed.  
"Usually Molly is up before you."  
"Well then she was sleeping in I guess." Mrs. Hudson decided. I rolled my eyes; I could figure that out myself thank you.  
"You alright after last night?" She asked.  
"Why does everyone ask me that? Of course I'm fine, it was a dream!" I pointed out.  
"Yes of course, but you tend to hold onto things longer than necessary." She pointed out.  
"It was just a dream; I'll get over it eventually." I shrugged. She just raised an eyebrow with doubt and went back to making whatever she was making. My guess was tea, hot chocolate, or coffee, knowing her.  
"Well, if you need anyone to talk to about it, we're both here." she sighed, but she was waiting her breath and I think she knew that. I didn't go to people for help, I wasn't the type of person to let someone into my problems, John was the first one that I told anything to and I guess he really is my problem at the moment. She dumped mini marshmallows in the cup so it had to be hot chocolate, walking over to the living room and sitting in the armchair. At the moment the Careers were discussing where they were going to go next, they knew that the volcano would explode and they weren't sure if they wanted to hunt the tributes down or bait them into the lava. I really hoped they were stupid enough to try the lava thing, I knew that John wouldn't be so easily tricked into that stuff, but if they did get down there then they'd have the girl.  
"I have a feeling these games might get violent." Mrs. Hudson shrugged.  
"Oh great, that was just what I wanted to hear." I muttered.  
"I didn't mean that in a bad way, but…"  
"There is no good way to say that. If it's violent John either gets brutally murdered or he has to do the murdering himself, and that won't help him sleep at night I can tell you that." I pointed out.  
"Well you'll be the first to know I guess." Mrs. Hudson said with a little smile.  
"Maybe the reason I never had feelings for anyone before is because you two always make fun of me for it." I snapped. She just shrugged her shoulder innocently, and I could tell she wanted to say more on the topic but Molly walked in, ruining whatever her genius comeback had been.  
"Good morning all." She muttered, yawning and shuffling around the hardwood floor with her pink slippers. I always thought those things were ridiculous, when I was a tribute I actually think I tried to hide them in the lobby just to get rid of them. "How are you after, you know, that?" she asked, sitting on the empty couch opposite of me.  
"I think I should just tattoo 'I'm fine' across my forehead, so when I get asked how I'm feeling for the billionth time I don't have to waste my breath." I snapped.  
"Then you'd be lying to everyone and to yourself because most times you're not exactly fine." Molly defended.  
"That's a bit harsh." I pointed out. Mrs. Hudson just rolled her eyes at me as if I was being annoying, but really I didn't care. Before John came they'd tiptoe around me and my little fits and now they were poking at the monster with a stick and laughing at it.  
"But are you okay? You gave us all a little shock last night, thought you were dying." Molly pointed out.  
"What was I doing?" I asked.  
"You were screaming John a lot, sometimes you'd just scream to make noise." Mrs. Hudson sighed.  
"Well nothing different then." I shrugged.  
"What was the dream about dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked.  
"That is definitely not your business." I pointed out with a sarcastic laugh.  
"Fair enough dear." Mrs. Hudson sighed. I looked back at the TV, now John was on screen, looking around the rocks with confusion, as if he didn't know where to go. He looked very rugged after how many days in the arena, his clothes in tatters, his face and body scratched and bandaged, his hair and skin a dirty mess, but the look suited him I suppose. He seemed to expect something was coming, he had watched these games before and once the landscape started to come into play then you know something is about to happen to end it. Now he was having the same mental battle as the Careers, go to the volcano to where there might be tributes and do your best to fight them or run as far as possible from that lava. In the end he started to walk towards the volcano, I didn't know if that was a dumb move or not. The camera switched to over top of the volcano, a camera that I was sure would have some complications soon, but it was bubbling and smoking very close to the edge. The girl on the mountain didn't look battle ready at all, and I kind of felt bad for her, but you never knew what she was capable of either. Even though she has a pocket knife she could be very agile, getting the others in the lava while she merely watched or something. I knew the boy from one wasn't about to do any gymnastics anytime soon, so she could have an advantage over him. Breakfast arrived shortly after, the Avoxes disappearing to who knows where, but I guess I was the only one that actually thought about that too much. We all sat around the table and said the prayer, mostly for John but also for the other tributes just so we don't sound biased.  
"Where do the Avoxes even come from?" I asked.  
"They're criminals remember? Snow catches them and cuts out their tongues." Molly pointed out as if that was totally normal, drowning her waffles in syrup.  
"No, in the house, they go down the hallway but where do they go?" I asked.  
"There's a service elevator behind one of the doors I believe." Mrs. Hudson guessed, getting an approving nod from Molly. I nodded, that should've been obvious, but it was better to learn I guess.  
"So this is it then, hopefully the games will end today." Molly decided.  
"What time?" I asked.  
"When most people can flock around the TV and leaving enough time for the crowning ceremony, so around lunch time I suppose." Mrs. Hudson decided. I tried not to be too worried, maybe John could do this, pull the same miracle I had last year around this time.  
"He'll be fine." Molly assured, reading my thoughts. I just shrugged, leaning back and not even picking at any food. I was terrified, this was it, we all knew that, tonight would come and John would either be the victor or he would be dead. I didn't talk anymore, lost in my thoughts and when we were finally able to leave the table I went back to my room, curtains and doors shut. I sat in the darkness staring a point in space, trying to keep myself from doing anything stupid like cry. I knew that there would be tears either way, whether they are happy tears or not they would come. The syringe sat on the dresser again, but I ignored it, I absolutely couldn't use it now because if he doesn't make it out I'll need at least four of those things at a time just to close my eyes. I turned on the TV, watching as the Careers moved close to the volcano. John was walking that way too, practicing his battle swings as he walked. I got a hit of second hand embarrassment since he was pretty bad with a sword, but I just had to hope he was smart enough to use the elements to his advantage. He ate and drank also, he seemed to know that this might be the end so he wasn't bothering with rationing. I thought that was a mistake, you never know how long the final battle will go. One time the battle lasted two days because it was more an archery thing, shoot, hide, pick up the enemy's arrows and repeat. It got very dull, but I guess it was good thing John didn't have a bow. It switched to the girl, who was walking among the rocks, and in the direction she was going I was sure she'd run into John or the Careers. I hoped it was the Careers though, the less blood John had on his hands the better. I knew it would be hard for him the next couple of days if he does make it out. He'll need me as much or even more than I need him, and he'll be undernourished. The worst part of the whole victor thing, in my opinion, was the paparazzi. Anywhere you go there's a camera watching, I hated the total lack of privacy. I remember after they let me off of the plane I was almost blinded by the cameras, the noise, too many people in my opinion. I remember stepping off and seeing Mrs. Hudson and Molly waiting, their smiles brighter than the camera flashes, and that was the moment where I actually had hope. From then on my life would be a dream, money, fame, a nice house for both me and my family, anything I wanted I could have, that hope was so false that it was almost a joke. After the games you turned out like me, nightmares, drugs, paranoia, the whole package hand delivered by the reaper himself. It was worse than death, part of me had wished that the tribute had killed me, that I got blown up with the tributes, it would've been a lot easier. I'd just be another wooden box buried in the ground. Positive thinking, as ever. It made me wonder if Irene's coffin was at Twelve yet, probably was, I hoped shipping was free. I hated to think of her family now, head of the market according to her, but even the snobby rich families didn't deserve to see their child get stabbed to death on live TV, especially when some people cheered about it. I hated people, I hated that bloody president, this town, this Capital, everything but John, my family, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson deserved to burn. It showed John again, he was humming something and held my note in his hand, reading it as he walked and almost falling over a rock that was sticking out of the ground. I didn't know the purpose of reading it over and over, maybe remembering me, that I was watching, motivation to keep going? Either way I was touched, no one was really sentimental about anything I give them much less a hand written note. He smiled to himself, and it warmed my heart to see that. He was still alive as of now, it would all be okay. By lunch time the arena got darker, John was looking at the sky with confusion but he kept walking, stuffing the note in his pocket and holding his sword tighter. The Careers were high fiving each other one last time, knowing that in the end they're probably going to end up killing each other. They knew this was the end. The girl didn't look as excited as they did; she knew she was going to die eventually. But with all these negative expectations watch her just come out on top, wouldn't that be a plot twist. It was John again; the volcano was in his sights. The sun was practically gone now; the only light was the artificial moon and stars to guide him along the rocks. Thankfully he had enough brains to not lie down and sleep, he kept walking.  
"Sherlock we think it's coming, do you want to come out here with us?" Molly asked, knocking softly on my door. Did I want to watch it out there?  
"I'll stay here!" I decided, if I was going to cry I was going to cry alone.  
"Are you sure?" Molly asked. She sounded worried, and she had every right to be, she didn't know what I was going to do, if John died then would I just get it over with immediately?  
"I'm fine Molly, go away!" I snapped. I heard her retreating footsteps, part of me wishing that she'd pick the lock and stay with me since I was too stubborn to admit that I was terrified. I didn't want it to be over; I didn't want to have to watch him die or kill, there was no good way out of this and I'd sit here, in the dark lonesome and face all of it by myself. I wanted to tell him I loved him one last time, before it all ended or all began. All I did was love him. I sighed, watching the Careers hold as many weapons as they could; one had a long sword, a knife on their belt and a bow slung over their back. They looked intimidating, but with all that weight they'd fall faster. The girl was sharpening a stick with the pocket knife, a good intention but a stick would be nothing against iron and it was only dulling the pocket knife blade. She was at the base of the volcano, I guess they all knew that it would go down there, win or lose it would end.


	30. Chapter 30

The camera was focused on John when the sparks started to fly from the top of the volcano. He saw them and stopped, as if debating whether or not to run back as fast as he could. Black smoke and ash were spewing from the top, sparks flying like fireworks and lighting up the otherwise dark arena. I clutched my pillow to my chest, just something to take my nerves out on if John was occupied, which he was. I held my breath as the camera changed to the girl, who was watching the volcano as well, crouched behind some rocks which would be no use against the lava. I knew she doubted herself immensely, full out terrified and clutching the stick and knife in her hands for dear life. I held my breath, wondering when and where the Careers would show up. My question when the girl's forehead sprouted an arrow head, the look of her surprise matched mine and I heard Molly and Mrs. Hudson shriek from the other room. A cannon boomed and the Careers jumped up behind her with whoops of excitement. They like this, the death of it all; it was like some sort of game to them since their egos were so big. Each one of the four or five of them was positive they'd win this, and only one actually could. And then, as if some third grader had added the baking soda to the vinegar, the volcano exploded. Lava shot into the air, pouring over the edge of the rocks and creeping down to the ground. The Careers found the biggest rocks they could, taking refuge on those and happily yelling out taunts to the volcano. John was now at the base a little ways away, he could see the Careers but with all of their yelling I knew they didn't notice his presence yet. I gripped the pillow tighter, this was it. Oh please, please John just make it out of this alive. He gripped his sword but looked doubtful, standing atop the rock with a white face. Obviously the archer was a good shot, if they had gotten the girl in the back of the head, that wasn't an easy thing to do. Then again I don't know what distance away he or she was.  
"Hey, there he is! It's Twelve!" called a girl triumphantly, pointing to where John was standing. The camera panned into the fear in his eyes, and it broke my heart. I had no idea how these shots were even possible, there were no camera in sight and yet here they are. John took a deep breath and raised his sword defensively. The lava was still flowing, creeping through the rocks like a silent, deadly snake. It wasn't near them yet, but it would rise eventually. A boy raised his bow, trying to take John out as easily as possible, shooting an arrow that would've hit him in the head if John hadn't ducked. His small size was an advantage because it sailed over his head harmlessly. He got straight back to his feet, not yet breathing a sigh of relief when another arrow came flying. This one he barely had time to smack away with a sword, splashing off into the liquid flames.  
"That the best you got?" he yelled, testing his luck.  
"No of course not!" They yelled back.  
"Mine as well just kill each other now, winner gets to kill me!" he yelled.  
"Ya, like we'd fall for that." a girl laughed, holding her dagger and snarling like a dog. John shrugged, his comical smile back on his face. It didn't give me any comfort though, seeing the smile, it was a show and John was the main actor. He had to make his audience believe him, and I could tell it wasn't working yet.  
"Let's think of it this way." He decided, tapping his foot with fake thought. "Why bother risking your life to wade over here and kill me off when afterword's you'll just have to kill your 'friends'." He put air quotes up, trying to point out that they were allies with a death note. He was daring, I'd give him that. Stupid, of course, but it takes nerves to lower your guard and talk to them like that. An arrow came flying, but this time he sidestepped with a dance like motion, rocking on his heels right back to his original pose.  
"Staling won't save your life." A boy added, flexing his arms and swinging his mace threateningly. The lava was coming out thicker now; it was maybe an inch deep, pouring over the rocks with the heat of liquid metal.  
"Well I know, of course it's not, I'm already dead you haven't considered that." John pointed out. "You see, if you waste time and effort trying to kill me as a pack hunt then you'd be injured in the final battle, so why not get that over with and leave me as the dissert." I could tell the Careers were considering it, looking at each other with suspicion. They were all on one rock, cluster together with the archers in front and the swords and knives in the back. I knew it would only take one of them to start an all-out battle, and with all luck they'd all fall in the lava for some reason.  
"And how do we know you won't just kill us? It's better one of us win than you." Another girl pointed out.  
"True, it probably would, but how threatening am I really? My sword has a dent and I almost cut off my own arm trying to pick it up. I mean really, me against any of you would be absolutely no competition." He pointed out. The lava was now really piling up; it was getting deeper and deeper every second. The Careers looked nervous; I knew there was a ripple in their confidence at the moment. I held my breath, one move, that's all we wanted; one move by any of them would send the weapons flying. Come on. John's confidence was actually looking high, his smile hadn't faded and he was doing his best to look week. His sword arm was dropping and he tried to make it look like he was favoring his left leg. And then, as if some miracle, a girl in the back pushed the male archer into the lava. He fell in with a gasp that turned quickly into screaming as the fires caught him. He tried to grab onto the rock again but they entire group was now fighting. The rock was plenty big for numerous fights, swords, maces, and knives flashing as the people who once banded together were out for blood. John watched and I could see a small achieved smile on his face, he looked terrified yes, but accomplished. Now instead of fighting five he'd only have to fight one. The girl who had first pushed the boy into the lava fell screaming in, fires catching on her body and clothes. One after another they went down in blood and flames, the soot and ash in the air making everyone look pretty terrifying actually. John was covered in it, trying to rub it off but it only smeared across his face like war paint. He looked different, evolved even. He was watching people fight, die, and scream as their bodies burned and his smile hadn't even wiped off of his face. That was what I called a little bit disturbing. Soon there were only two people on the rock, from what I could tell it was both the Tributes from One, fighting sword to sword in a battle for blood. The girl seemed to have the upper hand, pressuring him to move farther away from her and closer to the edge of the rock. But I guess the confidence was what he was looking for, she seemed to let her guard down and in one sweep he twisted the hilt of her sword so much that it flew out of her hands and fell into the lava, slowly melting down in the horrible heat. The remains of the other Careers were still burning, the cannons hadn't even gone off, they didn't bother, everyone was there already. I saw a blackened arm still holding someone to the rock, the skin had all melted away to reveal the bone inside. The girl was panicking now, looking around to see how she could escape in anyway, but the closest rock was a good jump away, and it would take a running head start to reach it. In the end she started saying goodbye, gasping about how much she loved her parents and family with tears running down her face as she said it. All it took was one stab from the boy and her bleeding body splashed into the lava. John slowly clapped, smiling at the boy.  
"Congratulations, you are the superior of the Careers, the one worth enough to end these games, the Victor." He said with a smile. The boy took a deep breath, but the deaths didn't seem to affect him. John was hiding his fear well, with the firelight dancing off of his hazel eyes he almost looked psychotic. My breath seemed to fail me, my lungs shrunk as the two sized each other up. By now the One boy was looking pretty accomplished, he thought he had won, but this would really define it. John had made it to the top two by tricking the Careers, I was extremely proud of him but I knew nothing would matter if he couldn't keep it going. Whatever was up his sleeve I hoped it was good.  
"You're clever boy, poisoning the minds of my friends, but smarts can only get you this far." The boy said with a smile. He backed to the edge of the rock, taking a running start and leaping to the next rock as if it was a simple step up the steps. One large leap for man, a couple of missed heart beats for me. When he was momentarily distracted John picked up a good sized clump of rock, as if that was going to do anything. He raised his sword; ready for the fight we all knew was coming. The boy was bracing himself for another jump, one more leap and he'd be on the same rock John was. It was definitely built for two, enough space for a battle, but I hoped it wouldn't amount to that.  
"This is for you Sherlock." John said loudly, and the boy from One jumped to his rock. Just as he took off John threw the rock as hard as he could, successfully hitting the boy in the side of the head and throwing him a little bit off balance. Never the less he landed on the rock, but John took advantage of his momentary disorientation and pushed him with the flat of his blade. The boy fell over, but not into the lava, his head flew over the edge but only the tips of his hair were singed. John certainly didn't plan for that, but he went with plan B, dropping his sword and crushing his sword arm with his foot, jumping onto the boy and pushing his head into the flames. The boy let out a horrified scream as his hair caught, sending fires up his face. John pushed down even harder; trying to sink his whole head in the lava, but the fire was taking its course. The boy had nothing to do but kick out helplessly, he was trapped under John's weight. The fire was getting to close to John's hands, so he just lifted the fiery skull and sent it slamming onto the edge of the rock. I closed my eyes, I couldn't watch but I heard the crack. I knew this very moment would haunt him for the rest of his life, even though he was just doing what was necessary he would never forget the light leaving the boy's eyes, the sound of the final cannon, the last one of the 74th Hunger Games, announcing John as the victor. Tears were streaming down my face, I didn't know what my heart was doing, I was horrified, sad, thrilled, and so bloody in love. It felt like someone was filling me with sand, but I opened my eyes and saw John looking straight into the camera, pushing the remainder of the body into the lava and collapsing on the rock. He muttered words I didn't hear; I saw tears on his face but heard the hover craft soaring above him. That's all I saw, that's all I cared about he had won. He had won, no matter the odds or the negative feelings, John Watson had won. I ran out of my bed, I didn't care that I was still wearing my robe and pajama pants, I opened the door and ran with bare feet to the elevator, pressing the button so hard I thought it would cave in. Molly and Mrs. Hudson got up and ran to me just as the elevator door swung open and the three of us jammed into the car together. 


	31. Chapter 31

"He did it!" Molly exclaimed, trapping me in a hug. They were all crying, I was almost full out sobbing by now, I had no idea why, the emotions that I've build up for so long were pouring out now, like a dam breaking. I didn't say anything as the elevator doors dined open I tore through the lobby and breaking through the doors. The Capital streets were packed with people, TV screens everywhere and everyone flocking to see how it ended. I didn't bother with them, I ran as fast as I could to the arena, where he would be dropped off. I ran so fast, barreling past people as if they were paper dolls. My feet burned against the cement but it was just a detail, maybe one of the negative details in this entire thing, John had won, he was the victor, he was alive to live another day! I saw it in front of me, the hovercraft lowering into the building where we had said goodbye, that hovercraft had him in it, scarred, burned, and bloody but alive. The doors didn't stop me, I don't even remember opening them but I remember a door opening in front of me. The chorus of people yelling and camera flashing told me that he was in the building, and when I pushed past the crowd there he was, standing, in the flash, right in front of me. It took us a moment just to actually decide it this was really happening, was it real or just some dream, one of those dreams that were so realistic that I was able to believe it was real and left me waking up with such disappointment. But no, dreams don't have these, feelings, I didn't even know what they meant but they were there, pounding against my rib cage trying desperately to get out. And then he was running to me, the ash still on his face and the blood on his hands, and if I hadn't braced myself I would've toppled over when he crashed into me with a bone breaking hug. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him to me so that no one could ever, ever take him away no matter how hard they tried. I didn't care how many peacekeepers Snow had, how many guns they had, if they tried to take John, my John Watson away from me I wouldn't let them. We were both sobbing but we had the biggest smiles on our faces as we treasured each other's company once again. I could see the camera flashing even though my eyelids, but I didn't even care about them anymore, there were people, another environmental factor, there would always people, but for now there was John and that was all that mattered. It took a little while for us to actually let each other go, and when we had breathing room I looked into his eyes and I saw fear. Happiness, excitement, of course, but fear was drifting through like a black raincloud, and I knew that he'd have to live and cope with that fear for the rest of his life.  
"I thought I lost you!" I admitted, cupping his face with my hands to make sure he was indeed real.  
"Can't get rid of me that easily." He laughed, and hearing his voice once again made me pull him into another hug. He was here, he was safe, and he was mine. The thing that finally pulled him away from me was Molly and Mrs. Hudson, congratulating him politely and telling him how great he was out in the arena. He didn't waste any awkward formal time, he gave each one of them hugs as well, though not as big as mine. He thanked both of them for watching over him and sponsoring him, but all they did was cry more. I made sure my robe was properly tied and went back over to stand next to him, John, he was here, I just had to keep this in my head or I wouldn't believe it was actually happening. After how many days in that bloody arena he was here with me. I put my arm around his shoulders, letting him lean into me and treasuring his presence.  
"You okay?" I asked.  
"No of course not." He sighed, but there was still a smile on his face. The Capital workers rushed over, making sure he was okay enough to make it to the full X-ray. That was right before the stylists took over, they made sure he didn't have any broken bones or concussions or anything. There wasn't anything they could fix really, except anything way too major like a stab wound or serious diseases that weren't supposed to be in there. John looked relatively okay, a shower and some new clothes and he'd be physically back to normal. I knew there wouldn't be a cure to the mental inflictions it had though. John pushed the workers away, assuring them that he was fine and there was nothing they could do for now. WE parted the crowd, not listening to them about their calls for a group shot or a group hug or anything. I knew the hug would be broadcasted worldwide, but what did I care, he alive, I was alive; you kind of underestimate those things when no one had any life threatening complications. We walked out of the door and into the sunlight, the first real sunlight John had seen in for what felt like years. But he held my hand, and I kept a protective arm around him, just to let everyone know that if they wanted him they'd have to go through me. I didn't know what to say, if there anything to say I couldn't even find the right words to string into a sentence, but his hand was in mine and it felt like my broken world had suddenly reformed, and all it took was one boy next to me. We walked to the Tribute Center where we wouldn't spend a long time in, mostly getting as clean as he can and looking decent before being shipped off to the stylists for the crowning ceremony. As we walked by cameras followed, people cheered for him, confetti came from somewhere, horns blew in triumph. But under all that I swear I could hear crying, cries of the families who had lost their children, of investors who put their money on the wrong tribute, mentors and escorts who had lost yet another tribute. But I paid them no attention, none at all I was free with my love and I didn't care who suffered because of it. When we got back to the lobby Greg almost attacked us with a group hug, otherwise known as practically strangling us in headlocks, but it was a friendly intention.  
"Congratulations you two love birds!" he exclaimed. I didn't bother debating or asking how word got to him, I don't recall ever telling him about us, but I guess he could piece it together.  
"Give him some space, please, come on!" I debated, pushing him away. Greg gave us our space but have a ridiculous smile on his face.  
"Well if it wasn't Jeff I'm happy it was you, and if I recall correctly he was the one that gave you all of that stuff." Greg pointed out. I think he was actually hurt with the glares the three of us gave him, defending our poor baby John from all the bad people in the world, like Greg, who would remind him of the games he had escaped from.  
"Let's get you upstairs." I decided, leading him to the elevator without a goodbye to Greg. He just whistled a wedding march and disappeared into the celebrating crowd. People were celebrating here too, trying to get pictures and stuff but we all ignored them, loading into an elevator and pushing a particularly determined photographer out. We watched as the ground around us shrunk below us, the elevator car shooting up the glass tube and dinging pleasantly. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with John right here, I wanted to hug him for another day or two, but I didn't know if he'd want space or not exactly want to be with me all day. And then I also wanted to kiss his again, really badly and I had no idea if he'd go for that. He had said he'd agreed, which I hope meant I love you, but it was so awkward between us.  
"John we are so proud of you." Molly said happily as we all stepped out of the elevator.  
"I don't even know what to think." He admitted.  
"I think you should go clean up, you look like some type of Indian warrior." Mrs. Hudson decided.  
"And Sherlock for god's sake get some real clothes on! We'll need to get down to the stylists soon!" Molly added.  
"And the Avoxes will kill us if you mess up your room, use Sherlock's." Mrs. Hudson said. I didn't even think about that, but both of us nodded and went into my room to clean up.  
"Do you have any clothes?" I asked. He shook his head.  
"All in my room." he admitted.  
"Well they'd have to be in there I guess, it's not like the Avoxes would throw them out." I decided. He nodded, letting go of my hand with an assuring smile and walking over to his room.  
"I said use Sherlock's!" Mrs. Hudson's voice called from where ever she was. John explained himself in a loud voice and came back with a bundle of clothes in his hands. The TV in my room was still on, broadcasting replays and the best moments of the arena. It showed John, once again, bashing the guy's head on a rock, and I turned it off immediately, knowing that none of us want to see that  
"They were there." He said with a triumphant smile.  
"Okay well, I won't help you with the controls." I insisted, gesturing to the bathroom door. John nodded, going in and closing the door behind him. I sighed; looking down at the floor and listening to the sound of the water turn on. He was here, why did I feel like this was all a dream? It seemed too good to be true, he had successfully beaten a boy from One, got rid of a whole pack of Careers by simply talking to them. It had been genius, he didn't use battle skills he had used his mind, like I taught him to. I knew that he must have been planning that for a while, the plan was slowly being formed as he walked and slept, like all good plans. I changed into my clean black trousers, purple button down shirt, and black jacket, trying to fix my hair with my hands in the mirror but all of my brushes were in the bathroom. I knew John would make fun of me for needing to brush my hair, but it was a bedhead mess, the one time I had to run the streets in my pajamas and I look like a zombie. I examined my feet in an odd sort of leg bend, seeing that they weren't too scratched up. There was a rock dug pretty deep in the left one, but I picked it out and threw it to the nearest wall, it was the Avoxes problem now. I pulled on my shoes and thought I looked somewhat decent. My eyes were red and I had tear stains down my cheeks, but I couldn't be happier. This day was absolutely perfect in my opinion. I flopped on my bed, knowing that even though the games were over John's battle had just started. In my opinion that was a terrible way to win, hand to hand combat, it would leave him traumatized for life; I knew that for a fact. I heard the water turn off so I got up and made my bed all nice, trying to make it look like I hadn't camped in here all day and night. He stepped out in fresh jeans and a tee shirt, very casual but it definitely suited him. Now he looked like John, now blood, no dirt, smoke, or ash, just John with wet but clean hair.  
"Better?" I asked, sitting against the headboard and smiling at him. Just the sight of him made my heart lighter.  
"Oh you have no idea, that was the most amazing show I've had." He assured, toweling off his hair the best he could. He stepped back in the bathroom and pulled out the ruined tribute clothes.  
"Memories right?" he pointed out.  
"Your memories are getting my rug all dirty." I pointed out.  
"Don't be such a girl Sherlock!" he laughed, but put them back in the bathroom. He pulled something from the pocket, the note I had given him, and slipped it back in his pocket.  
"So, I know you've been stalking me since I left, but what have I missed here?" he asked, looking around the room for clues. His eyes found the syringe on the dresser, and I quickly stuffed it out of sight under the bed.  
"Molly and Mrs. Hudson found my stash, they picked the lock and broke in one night." I explained. John looked a bit disappointed, but I was sure in a day or two he'd be asking me where I got them.  
"Thanks for the bread by the way." He added.  
"That was all Molly. She went out alone since I uh, threw a little fit, and I stayed in here." I said, ignoring the part about what I had said in the street.  
"Sounds like a very Sherlock thing to do." He laughed, pulling out the note and handing it to me.  
"That's pretty much what got me through the games, knowing you were out there, doing whatever you could really." He admitted. I unfolded it, the crease very used, seeing my own neat cursive handwriting.  
"Of course I was there." I insisted, handing it back to him.  
"You were counting on me to get back, and I had to get back." He sighed.  
"Well I can't tell you how positively delighted I am to see you." I assured.  
"I certainly am glad to see you too. All I needed in the arena was a familiar face. What ever happened to Irene?" he asked. My smiled faded a little bit.  
"She did what she said, she went with the Careers but I guess they all didn't work as well together as she should. She got in a fight and, well, I guess you can guess what happens then." I shrugged.  
"That's a real shame." He sighed.  
"Well it was one less person I guess. By the way, the way you fought off those careers was simply amazing." I added.  
"Don't call it amazing. It's not amazing to kill people, I know I had to, and that it was pretty much self-defense, but I feel like a monster." He muttered. I got off of the bed, knowing this was the type of attitude that needed another hug, and wrapped protective arms around him. He buried his face in my shoulder, as if that would make the last week disappear. I knew I should really say anything, what was I supposed to say? I knew what was happening; I knew how he felt to hate himself for what he did. It took time to accept it, and even then you hate yourself for it.  
"It's okay John, you're okay." I assured. He muttered something I couldn't understand but didn't move. I took a deep breath, just telling myself to remember this for the rest of my life. This feeling of hugging him after so long was like a miracle, a fairytale even.  
"It'll all be okay." I assured, and I hoped he believed me.  
"Boys we've got to get going!" Mrs. Hudson called. I groaned, the last thing John needed were stylists and makeup and rubbish like that. But we broke apart, walking out into the living room where Mrs. Hudson and Molly waited. They were both wearing dresses for some reason, I didn't think it was totally necessary, we weren't going to be brought on stage, but I guess I should complain. There was nothing to complain about; actually, even for me it didn't seem right.  
"So you'll go to the stylists, and then get interviewed by Caesar and then be crowned by Snow." Mrs. Hudson said excitedly.  
"Oh great, I get to meet the evil behind this entire operation." John hissed.  
"Well no one asked you to like it, just smile and pretend that you don't hate him." Molly decided. Joh rolled his eyes but nodded, what else was he supposed to do.  
"What will Caesar ask?" he asked as we stepped into the elevator.  
"Only stupid questions like how it feels, what were you thinking of in the games, what was your motivation." I assured.  
"Don't worry about it too much, there are no wrong answers." Molly assured.  
"And it's pretty much the same answers every year." I added.  
"Oh, I can't believe it; this will be my third ceremony, three victors." Mrs. Hudson sighed happily.  
"Yes Mrs. Hudson, you picked good names apparently." Molly laughed. Mrs. Hudson smiled as if she had done anything but walk around and pick names out of bowls. The elevator dinged and we walked out, Molly leading us past the lobby and down to the train station. No one sat again; I just watched the lights speed through the dark tunnel until we docked at the stylist's station. When we stepped out we were, once again, flooded by paparazzi who actually thought we wanted to get our picture taken. Instead we kept our heads down and kept walking. The stylists were so happy to see John back alive; even though they barely knew him they all gave him individual hugs. He hugged them back sort of awkwardly, glaring at me from over their shoulders. I just smiled at him; it was actually quite funny to see him all awkward. Then they dragged him over to the hair and makeup, which didn't take all that long since he was a guy. This time they gave him a black suit with the invisible gold sequins on his collar and cuffs, so that only part of his outfit reflected. He looked stunning actually, and I knew he'd only look better with the Victor's crown on. I wondered if it would be different from the one stashed somewhere in the back of my closet, I doubted it really, it's not like they were engraved or anything. Molly had hers in a display case in her living room, she said it's the most proud possession she owned but I really thought mine was worthy of being melted down for scrap metal. I didn't want to think of my games, and the victor's crown would terrify me. It shouldn't be a crowned position to kill the best out of 24 kids; it shouldn't be celebrated while anyone on the street that killed someone was arrested and got their tongue cut out. the interview was soon to start and we were running a little bit late, but we made it to the stadium though, getting out of the train and being hurried around by a worried Mrs. Hudson, who seemed to think that we were going to be executed if we were late. I didn't care though; it was just those Twelves again, late as usual. As we got in the entrance music started to blast and Caesar walked out, laughing like an idiot yet again. He looked perfectly refreshed, I had no idea how he did it, he had been up narrating the games the whole time. Some type of Capital medication I would love to get my hands on. He bowed and laughed for the applauding crowd, rich Capital scum that wanted to see the new Victor. After the Victor's tour in the Districts John would be old news, he'd be like me, maybe some people would recognize him but the rest would look straight through him.


End file.
